“Now, how delightful,” purred Spenser Churchill. “One of the old family jewels, eh, dear marquis? A bracelet, or a ring, or something of that kind, I suppose?”
By this time Lord Cecil had reached the safe and opened it, and Spenser Churchill, with a smile of childlike interest and curiosity, went and stood beside him.
The safe was half-full of papers, and nothing but papers, as it appeared, and Lord Cecil said so, and waited for instructions.
“The cases are at the back,” said the marquis. “For Heaven’s sake! don’t bother me over the business, or I shall regret my sudden and unusual generosity,” he added, with a sneer.
Lord Cecil took some of the documents out, and revealed a couple of jewel cases, and placing the former on a chair, carried the latter to the marquis.
“These papers want arranging, dear marquis,” said Spenser Churchill, and he lingered behind, as if casually; but his eyes flashed over the litter of parchments with keen and searching scrutiny.
“I dare say,” assented the marquis, indifferently. “There are some wills of mine there, I think, but it doesn’t matter. I shall live to make two or three more to add to this collection,” and he glanced at Lord Neville maliciously.
Spenser Churchill laughed, as if it were an excellent joke, and Lord Cecil opened the cases and set them on the small table beside the marquis.
“Are these what you want?” he asked.
“Yes, I suppose so,” said his lordship. “Choose something; here, Churchill!”