"One does not often see such a bracelet as this," pursued Frances. "Where did you buy it?—if you don't mind my asking."
"Garrards are my jewellers," she replied.
This very nearly did for Frances: for it was at Garrards' that the colonel originally purchased it: and it seemed to give a colouring to Sir Francis Netherleigh's view of more bracelets having been made of the same pattern. But she was too anxious and determined to stand upon ceremony—for Gerard's sake: and he was dearer to her than the world suspected.
"We—one of my family—lost a bracelet exactly like this some time back. When I saw it on your arm, I thought it was the same. I hoped it was."
The lady froze directly, and laid down her arm, making no reply.
"Are you—pardon me, there are painful interests involved—are you sure you purchased this at Garrards'?"
"I have said that Messrs. Garrard are my jewellers," replied the stranger, in cold, repelling tones; and the words sounded evasive to Frances. "More I cannot say: neither am I aware by what law of courtesy you thus question me, nor whom you may be."
The young lady drew herself up, proudly secure in her name and rank. "I am Lady Frances Chenevix. And I must beg you to pardon me."
But the stranger only bowed in silence, and turned to the refreshment-table. Frances went to find the Cadogans, and to question them.
She was a Lady Livingstone, they told her, wife of Sir Jasper Livingstone. The husband had made a mint of money at something or other, and had been knighted; and now they were launching out into high society.