“No—no—a young friend, Miss Rolfe,” she answered, tremulously.
Lady Bell went straight up to Una and held out her hand, her eyes fixed on the now flushed face.
“How do you do?” she said, in the almost blunt fashion which her admirers declared so charming, and which, though envious tongues declared an affectation, was a perfectly natural consequence of her early life.
Una put her hand in the delicate white gloved one, and the two women looked at each other for a moment in silence.
Was it possible at that moment that some prophetic instinct whispered to the heart of each that the threads of both their lives were doomed to be entangled together?
Then Una suddenly remembered that she had in her hand the jewels belonging to this young lady, and with a grave smile she put them back in their case.
“You are looking at my sapphires, I see,” said Lady Bell, in a tone which set the soul of the alarmed jeweler at rest. “Do you admire them? Are they fine, do you think?”
Una smiled.
“I do not know. They are very beautiful. I have never seen anything like them before.”
“Really,” said Lady Bell, with a nod; “I don’t care for them. They don’t suit me; there is not enough color in them.” Then, turning to the jeweler, she said, in that quiet tone of command which for the first time fell upon Una’s ears: “Give me the rubies, please.”