The girl drew away from his encircling arm and slipped to the ground. “Why do you want to speak about that?” she asked, standing before him and looking as charming as the Queen of Sheba when she visited Solomon; “it was lost before I was born, and no one ever speaks of it. Except Uncle Ran,” she added with an afterthought, “he loves jewels, as you know, and always regrets the loss, although the peacock belongs to me and not to him.”
“Marie,” said Alan again and gravely, “come and sit down, as I have something important to tell you which you must not repeat to your uncle until I give you leave.”
“I shall sit here,” said Miss Inderwick, sinking on to the trunk of a fallen tree which was a few feet away, “and I wish you wouldn’t look so solemn or talk about such things. You make me nervous.”
“There is nothing to be nervous about, my dear.”
“Then why am I not to repeat what you say to Uncle Ran?” demanded Marie in an inconsequent manner.
“Because I think if Mr. Sorley got that peacock he would be greedy enough to keep it to himself.”
“He couldn’t. It’s mine.”
“He would, because he looks upon your property as his own.”
“The peacock was left to me by my father’s will, along with the park and the house,” insisted Marie folding her hands pensively. “It was particularly mentioned because of the good fortune it will bring—that is when the secret is discovered.”
“The secret. What secret?” Alan spoke almost sharply.