"How very beautiful!" she said.
"Yes," responded Sir Oswald, holding them up to the light, "they are, indeed. I am sure we must congratulate Lady Darrell upon her good taste. I suggested diamonds or pearls, but she thought rubies so much better suited to Pauline's dark beauty; and she is quite right."
Lady Darrell held up the shining rubies with her white fingers, but she did not smile; a look of something like apprehension came over the fair face.
"I hope Pauline will like them," she said, gently.
"She cannot fail to do so," remarked Sir Oswald, with some little hauteur. "I will tell her that you want to speak to her."
He went over to the deep recess of the large window, where Pauline sat reading. He had felt very sure that she would be flattered by the rich and splendid gift. There had been some little pride, and some little pomp in his manner as he went in search of her, but it seemed to die away as he looked at her face. That was not the face of a girl who could be tempted, pleased, or coaxed with jewels. Insensibly his manner changed.
"Pauline," he said, gently, "Lady Darrell wishes to speak to you."
There was evidently a struggle in her mind as to whether she should comply or not, and then she rose, and without a word walked up to the little group.
"What do you require, Lady Darrell?" she asked; and Miss Hastings looked up at her with quick apprehension.
The fair face of Lady Darrell looked more troubled than pleased. Sir Oswald stood by, a little more stately and proud than usual—proud of his niece, proud of his wife, and pleased with himself.