“Take it then, dear Lady Emily.”
Euphrasia’s eyes were not on the speakers, nor was any envy to be seen in her face. She still gazed at the jewels in the box.
The chosen gem was put aside; and then, one after another, the various articles were taken out and examined. At length, a large gold chain, set with emeralds, was lifted from where it lay coiled up in a corner. A low cry, like a muffled moan, escaped from Euphrasia’s lips, and she turned her head away from the box.
“What is the matter, Euphra?” said Mr. Arnold.
“A sudden shoot of pain—I beg your pardon, dear uncle. I fear I am not quite so well yet as I thought I was. How stupid of me!”
“Do sit down. I fear the weight of the box was too much for you.”
“Not in the least. I want to see the pretty things.”
“But you have seen them before.”
“No, uncle. You promised to show them to me, but you never did.”
“You see what I get by being ill,” said Lady Emily.