Aunt Fanny was then there in the guise of a domestic detective, to watch proceedings and report on them,—a function which simplifies the due conduct of a case, be it in love or law, beyond anything.
“How agreeable your papa must be this evening, my dear!” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, as with a glance at the clock on the mantelpiece she recognized that it was near ten.
“I 'm sure he is deep in one of his interminable law arguments, which always makes Mr. Cashel so sleepy and so stupid, that he never recovers for the rest of the evening.”
“He ought to find the drawing-room all the pleasanter for the contrast,” remarked Miss O'Hara, dryly. “I like to see young men—mind me well, young men, it does n't do with old ones—thoroughly bored before they come among the ladies. The sudden change to the tea, and the wax-lights, and the bright eyes, are trying stimulants. Let them, however, be what they call 'pleasant' below-stair, and they are sure to come up flushed and excited, well satisfied with the host's claret, and only anxious to order the carriage. What o'clock is it now?”
“A quarter-past ten, aunt.”
“Too late; full three-quarters too late,” ejaculated she, with the tone of an oracle. “There is nothing your father could have to say should have detained him till now. Play that little Mexican thing again, my dear; and, Livy, love, leave the door a little open; don't you find the heat of this room intolerable?”
The young ladies obeyed, and meanwhile Aunt Fanny, drawing her chair closer to her sister's, said, in a low tone,—
“Well, explain the matter more clearly. Did he give her the diamonds?”