“Dear me, what is it?” Mrs. Lee turned and tried to peer across the room through her “fine work” spectacles. “It’s all a blur to me.”
“This!” Rosamond came over and stood beside her with something gleaming in her hand. “An engine of destruction.”
“Good heavens, child! a revolver? I do hope it is not loaded.” She drew back in trepidation from the shining toy with its mother-of-pearl handle. Rosamond laughed.
“It’s a kind of revolver. It’s a pistol. And it is loaded!”
“Dear, dear. What for? Are you afraid of marauders? Perhaps having all these valuable art objects in the house makes you nervous; but I am sure there is no need of pistols. Roseborough never has experiences of that sort.”
“No,” she laughed. “I’m not afraid. I remember I took it with me two weeks ago, when Wilton and I went riding with Miss Crewe and Corinne into the other valley beyond Charleroy. I wanted to prove to him that I could hit objects at a certain distance. And I did. Mr. Mearely taught me to shoot and he said I had a straight eye. He was a crack shot himself, you know. I remember now that I put it in that drawer when we all came in for tea. Amanda made such a fuss about my keeping it upstairs. She seemed to think I would get up and commit suicide in my sleep. I wanted to teach the two girls to fire it, but they wouldn’t learn, and they screamed every time I popped it off. So it wasn’t a very successful shooting-party.”
She returned to the desk and slipped the pistol back into its drawer.
“I think I’ll put this new pack in an envelope and write on the outside ‘Losers should not bite.’ If I indulged in Mrs. Witherby’s manners, she’d be the first to say that nothing else was to be expected from a farm urchin! But, in her, they are a sign of the aristocrat’s fiery soul! Pooh!” She put the cards in the centre of the large table.
“It is incredible to me how any one so beautiful as you are to-night can be so naughty! I had almost said——” Mrs. Lee paused and looked with mock severity over her glasses.
“What?” with airy defiance.