'Yes,' said Dorcas, opening the jewel-cases, which she had taken from her cabinet, one after the other.
'And these pearls! how very magnificent! I had no idea Mark Wylder's taste was so exquisite.'
'Yes, very magnificent, I suppose.'
'How charming—quite regal—you will look, Dorcas!'
Dorcas smiled strangely, and her bosom heaved a little, Rachel thought. Was it elation, or was there not something wildly bitter gleaming in that smile?
'I must look a little longer at these diamonds.'
'As long, dear, as you please. You are not likely, Rachel, to see them again.'
From the blue flash of the brilliants Rachel in honest amazement raised her eyes to her cousin's face. The same pale smile was there; the look was oracular and painful. Had she overheard a part of that unworthy talk of Wylder's at the dinner-table, the day before, and mistaken Rachel's share in the dialogue?
And Dorcas said—
'You have heard of the music on the waters that lures mariners to destruction. The pilot leaves the rudder, and leans over the prow, and listens. They steer no more, but drive before the wind; and what care they for wreck or drowning?'