As Una was bending over them fascinated, a handsome carriage drew up, and the shop door was opened by a footman in rich livery.
Una looked up, and saw a beautiful girl who, pausing in the doorway, stood regarding her.
The eyes of the two girls met, Una’s with an instant frank admiration in her calm depths—a curious, half-amazed, but also admiring stare in the bright, dark eyes of the other.
The jeweler glanced from the new-comer to the gems in Una’s lap, and changed color. Mrs. Davenant started nervously, and turned pale.
With a quick, bird-like, but thoroughly graceful movement, the richly-dressed lady turned, and with a smile of recognition, bowed.
“Mrs.——” she said, and hesitated.
“Davenant,” said Mrs. Davenant. “How do you do, Lady Earlsley?”
Lady Isabel Earlsley, the great heiress and queen of fashion, held out her hand in her quick, impulsive way, but turned her quick glance on Una, whose eyes had never left the dark, bewitching face.
“Your daughter, Mrs. Davenant?”
Poor Mrs. Davenant trembled with nervous agitation.