"I understood our boxes were to be examined."
She evidently meant her own and mine. Mr. Chandos laughed pleasantly.
"Your boxes? Certainly not, Mrs. Penn. Why, you are the chief sufferer! It would be a new thing to search places for the articles lost out of them."
But Mrs. Penn pressed it. It was not pleasant, although she had lost a bit of lace: and she thought the boxes should all share alike, excepting those belonging to the Chandos family: it would be more satisfactory to our minds. Mr. Chandos repeated his No, courteously, but somewhat imperatively, and left the room with the officer.
"Did you offer your boxes for their inspection?" she asked of me.
"Of course not. They know quite well I should not be likely to take the things."
"I may say the same of myself. But I cannot help remembering that you and I are the only strangers in the place; and it makes me, for my part, feel uncomfortable. Such a thing never before happened in any house where I have been."
"At any rate, Mrs. Penn, you must be exempt from suspicion."
"It is not altogether that. I look at it in this light. These servants are searched: they are proved innocent; at least nothing is found upon them to imply guilt. They may turn round and say—why don't you search these two strangers?—and talk of injustice. However—of course Mr. Chandos must do as he pleases: he seems sole master here."
"Do not fear that he will suspect either you or me, Mrs. Penn. And Lady Chandos, as I gather, knows nothing of the matter."