Rosanne did not look like a peacock at all, but like fire and water made incarnate. The diamonds she wore seemed as much a part of her natural element as her hair and eyes and the tinted ivory flesh of her. Mrs. Ozanne knew it, and so did the speaker, who was also the mother of three plain daughters. But that did not bring balm to Sophia Ozanne's heart, or did it comfort her soul that Sir Denis Harlenden, the distinguished traveller and hunter, after some weeks of apparent dangling at Rosanne's heels, was now paying such open and unmistakable court that all other mothers could not but sit up and enviously take notice. Rosalie, too, it was plain, had a little hook in the heart of Richard Gardner, a promising young advocate and one of the best matches in Kimberley. But what booted it to Sophia Ozanne to triumph over other mothers when her mind was filled with forebodings and unhappy problems? She tried solving one of these on arriving home after the ball, but with no very great success.
In the dim-lit hall of Tiptree House—a lofty, pleasant room arranged as a lounge—they all lingered a few moments. Rosalie, with a dreaming look in her blue eyes, stood sipping a glass of hot milk. Rosanne had thrown off her white velvet cloak and flung herself and her crushed tulle into a great armchair. Mrs. Ozanne, with a cup of chocolate in her hand, looked old and weary—though in point of years she was still a young woman.
"Rosanne," she ventured, "a lot of people were remarking on your diamonds tonight."
"Yes?" said the girl carelessly. Her thoughts seemed elsewhere, and she did not look happy, in spite of the success that had been hers that evening.
"Yes; even Dick—" put in Rosalie timidly, then corrected herself—"even Mr. Gardner noticed them, and rather wondered, I think, how you came to be wearing such beautiful stones."
Rosanne sat up swiftly.
"Dick Gardner had better mind his own business," she said quickly, "or he will be sorry. I never liked that man."
Rosalie turned pale. Mrs. Ozanne braced herself to the defence of her gentle, little, fair daughter.
"But, my dear, it is not only Mr. Gardner; I heard many people saying things—that I must be ruining myself to buy you such jewels, and that——"
"Well, you're not, mother, are you?" Rosanne had risen and stood, smiling her subtle, ironical smile.