As mistress of a prosperous school, bearing a widely-extendedreputation, Miss Ladd prided herself on the liberality of herhousehold arrangements. At breakfast and dinner, not only thesolid comforts but the elegant luxuries of the table, were setbefore the young ladies "Other schools may, and no doubt do,offer to pupils the affectionate care to which they have beenaccustomed under the parents' roof," Miss Ladd used to say. "Atmy school, that care extends to their meals, and provides themwith a _cuisine_ which, I flatter myself, equals the mostsuccessful efforts of the cooks at home." Fathers, mothers, andfriends, when they paid visits to this excellent lady, broughtaway with them the most gratifying recollections of herhospitality. The men, in particular, seldom failed to recognizein their hostess the rarest virtue that a single lady canpossess--the virtue of putting wine on the table which may begratefully remembered by her guests the next morning.

An agreeable surprise awaited Mrs. Rook when she entered thehouse of bountiful Miss Ladd.

Luncheon was ready for Sir Jervis Redwood's confidential emissaryin the waiting-room. Detained at the final rehearsals of musicand recitation, Miss Ladd was worthily represented by coldchicken and ham, a fruit tart, and a pint decanter of generoussherry. "Your mistress is a perfect lady!" Mrs. Rook said to theservant, wi th a burst of enthusiasm. "I can carve for myself,thank you; and I don't care how long Miss Emily keeps mewaiting."

As they ascended the steps leading into the house, Alban askedEmily if he might look again at her locket.

"Shall I open it for you?" she suggested.

No: I only want to look at the outside of it."

He examined the side on which the monogram appeared, inlaid withdiamonds. An inscription was engraved beneath.

"May I read it?" he said.

"Certainly!"

The inscription ran thus: "In loving memory of my father. Died30th September, 1877."

"Can you arrange the locket," Alban asked, "so that the side onwhich the diamonds appear hangs outward?"

She understood him. The diamonds might attract Mrs. Rook'snotice; and in that case, she might ask to see the locket of herown accord. "You are beginning to be of use to me, already,"Emily said, as they turned into the corridor which led to thewaiting-room.

They found Sir Jervis's housekeeper luxuriously recumbent in theeasiest chair in the room.

Of the eatable part of the lunch some relics were yet left. Inthe pint decanter of sherry, not a drop remained. The genialinfluence of the wine (hastened by the hot weather) was visiblein Mrs. Rook's flushed face, and in a special development of herugly smile. Her widening lips stretched to new lengths; and thewhite upper line of her eyeballs were more freely and horriblyvisible than ever.

"And this is the dear young lady?" she said, lifting her hands inover-acted admiration. At the first greetings, Alban perceivedthat the impression produced was, in Emily's case as in his case,instantly unfavorable.

The servant came in to clear the table. Emily stepped aside for aminute to give some directions about her luggage. In thatinterval Mrs. Rook's cunning little eyes turned on Alban with anexpression of malicious scrutiny.

"You were walking the other way," she whispered, "when I metyou." She stopped, and glanced over her shoulder at Emily. "I seewhat attraction has brought you back to the school. Steal yourway into that poor little fool's heart; and then make hermiserable for the rest of her life!--No need, miss, to hurry,"she said, shifting the polite side of her toward Emily, whoreturned at the moment. "The visits of the trains to your stationhere are like the visits of the angels described by the poet,'few and far between.' Please excuse the quotation. You wouldn'tthink it to look at me--I'm a great reader."

"Is it a long journey to Sir Jervis Redwood's house?" Emilyasked, at a loss what else to say to a woman who was alreadybecoming unendurable to her.

Mrs. Rook looked at the journey from an oppressively cheerfulpoint of view.

"Oh, Miss Emily, you shan't feel the time hang heavy in mycompany. I can converse on a variety of topics, and if there isone thing more than another that I like, it's amusing a prettyyoung lady. You think me a strange creature, don't you? It's onlymy high spirits. Nothing strange about me--unless it's my queerChristian name. You look a little dull, my dear. Shall I beginamusing you before we are on the railway? Shall I tell you how Icame by my queer name?"

Thus far, Alban had controlled himself. This last specimen of thehousekeeper's audacious familiarity reached the limits of hisendurance.

"We don't care to know how you came by your name," he said.

"Rude," Mrs. Rook remarked, composedly. "But nothing surprisesme, coming from a man."

She turned to Emily. "My father and mother were a wicked marriedcouple," she continued, "before I was born. They 'got religion,'as the saying is, at a Methodist meeting in a field. When I cameinto the world--I don't know how you feel, miss; I protestagainst being brought into the world without asking my leavefirst--my mother was determined to dedicate me to piety, before Iwas out of my long clothes. What name do you suppose she had mechristened by? She chose it, or made it, herself--the name of'Righteous'! Righteous Rook! Was there ever a poor baby degradedby such a ridiculous name before? It's needless to say, when Iwrite letters, I sign R. Rook--and leave people to think it'sRosamond, or Rosabelle, or something sweetly pretty of that kind.You should have seen my husband's face when he first heard thathis sweetheart's name was 'Righteous'! He was on the point ofkissing me, and he stopped. I daresay he felt sick. Perfectlynatural under the circumstances."

Alban tried to stop her again. "What time does the train go?" heasked.

Emily entreated him to restrain himself, by a look. Mrs. Rook wasstill too inveterately amiable to take offense. She opened hertraveling-bag briskly, and placed a railway guide in Alban'shands.

"I've heard that the women do the men's work in foreign parts,"she said. "But this is England; and I am an Englishwoman. Findout when the train goes, my dear sir, for yourself."

Alban at once consulted the guide. If there proved to be noimmediate need of starting for the station, he was determinedthat Emily should not be condemned to pass the interval in thehousekeeper's company. In the meantime, Mrs. Rook was as eager asever to show her dear young lady what an amusing companion shecould be.

"Talking of husbands," she resumed, "don't make the mistake, mydear, that I committed. Beware of letting anybody persuade you tomarry an old man. Mr. Rook is old enough to be my father. I bearwith him. Of course, I bear with him. At the same time, I havenot (as the poet says) 'passed through the ordeal unscathed.' Myspirit--I have long since ceased to believe in anything of thesort: I only use the word for want of a better--my spirit, I say,has become embittered. I was once a pious young woman; I doassure you I was nearly as good as my name. Don't let me shockyou; I have lost faith and hope; I have become--what's the lastnew name for a free-thinker? Oh, I keep up with the times, thanksto old Miss Redwood! She takes in the newspapers, and makes meread them to her. What _is_ the new name? Something ending in ic.Bombastic? No, Agnostic?--that's it! I have become an Agnostic.The inevitable result of marrying an old man; if there's anyblame it rests on my husband."

"There's more than an hour yet before the train starts," Albaninterposed. "I am sure, Miss Emily, you would find it pleasanterto wait in the garden."

"Not at all a bad notion," Mrs. Rook declared. "Here's a man whocan make himself useful, for once. Let's go into the garden."

She rose, and led the way to the door. Alban seized theopportunity of whispering to Emily.

"Did you notice the empty decanter, when we first came in? Thathorrid woman is drunk."

Emily pointed significantly to the locket. "Don't let her go. Thegarden will distract her attention: keep her near me here."

Mrs. Rook gayly opened the door. "Take me to the flower-beds,"she said. "I believe in nothing--but I adore flowers."

Mrs. Rook waited at the door, with her eye on Emily. "What do_you_ say, miss?"

"I think we shall be more comfortable if we stay where we are."

"Whatever pleases you, my dear, pleases me." With this reply, thecompliant housekeeper--as amiable as ever on thesurface--returned to her chair.

Would she notice the locket as she sat down? Emily turned towardthe window, so as to let the light fall on the diamonds.

No: Mrs. Rook was absorbed, at the moment, in her ownreflections. Miss Emily, having prevented her from seeing thegarden, she was maliciously bent on disappointing Miss Emily inreturn. Sir Jervis's secretary (being young) took a hopeful viewno doubt of her future prospects. Mrs. Rook decided on darkeningthat view in a mischievously-suggestive manner, peculiar toherself.

"You will naturally feel some curiosity about your new home," shebegan, "and I haven't said a word about it yet. How verythoughtless of me! Inside and out, dear Miss Emily, our house isjust a little dull. I say _our_ house, and why not--when themanagement of it is all thrown on me. We are built of stone; andwe are much too long, and are not half high enough. Our situationis on the coldest side of the county, away in the west. We areclose to the Cheviot hills; and if you fancy there is anything tosee when you look out of window, except sheep, you will findyourself woefully mistaken. As for walks, if you go out on oneside of the house you may, or may not, be gored by cattle. On theother side, if the darkness overtakes you, you may, or may not,tumble down a deserted lead mine. But the company, inside thehouse, makes amends for it all," Mrs. Rook proceeded, enjoyingthe expression of dismay which was beginning to show itself onEmily's face. "Plenty of excitement for you, my dear, in oursmall family. Sir Jervis will introduce you to plaster casts ofhideous Indian idols; he will keep you writing for him, withoutmercy, from morning to night; and when he does let you go, oldMiss Redwood will find she can't sleep, and will send for thepretty young lady-secretary to read to her. My husband I am sureyou will like. He is a respectable man, and bears the highestcharacter. Next to the idols, he's the most hideous object in thehouse. If you are good enough to encourage him, I don't say thathe won't amuse you; he will tell you, for instance, he never inhis life hated any human being as he hates his wife. By the way,I must not forget--in the interests of truth, you know--tomention one drawback that does exist in our domestic circle. Oneof these days we shall have our brains blown out or our throatscut. Sir Jervis's mother left him ten thousand pounds' worth ofprecious stones all contained in a little cabinet with drawers.He won't let the banker take care of his jewels; he won't sellthem; he won't even wear one of the rings on his finger, or oneof the pins at his breast. He keeps his cabinet on hisdressing-room table; and he says, 'I like to gloat over myjewels, every night, before I go to bed.' Ten thousand pounds'worth of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and what not--atthe mercy of the first robber who happens to hear of them. Oh, mydear, he would have no choice, I do assure you, but to use hispistols. We shouldn't quietly submit to be robbed. Sir Jervisinherits the spirit of his ancestors. My husband has the temperof a game cock. I myself, in defense of the property of myemployers, am capable of becoming a perfect fiend. And we none ofus understand the use of firearms!"

While she was in full enjoyment of this last aggravation of thehorrors of the prospect, Emily tried another change ofposition--and, this time, with success. Greedy admirationsuddenly opened Mrs. Rook's little eyes to their utmost width."My heart alive, miss, what do I see at your watch-chain? Howthey sparkle! Might I ask for a closer view?"

Emily's fingers trembled; but she succeeded in detaching thelocket from the chain. Alban handed it to Mrs. Rook.

She began by admiring the diamonds--with a certain reserve."Nothing like so large as Sir Jervis's diamonds; but choicespecimens no doubt. Might I ask what the value--?"

She stopped. The inscription had attracted her notice: she beganto read it aloud: "In loving memory of my father. Died--"

Her face instantly became rigid. The next words were suspended onher lips.

Alban seized the chance of making her betray herself--underpretense of helping her. "Perhaps you find the figures not easyto read," he said. "The date is 'thirtieth September, eighteenhundred and seventy-seven'--nearly four years since."

Not a word, not a movement, escaped Mrs. Rook. She held thelocket before her as she had held it from the first. Alban lookedat Emily. Her eyes were riveted on the housekeeper: she wasbarely capable of preserving the appearance of composure. Seeingthe necessity of acting for her, he at once said the words whichshe was unable to say for herself.

"Perhaps, Mrs. Rook, you would like to look at the portrait?" hesuggested. "Shall I open the locket for you?"

Without speaking, without looking up, she handed the locket toAlban.

He opened it, and offered it to her. She neither accepted norrefused it: her hands remained hanging over the arms of thechair. He put the locket on her lap.

The portrait produced no marked effect on Mrs. Rook. Had the dateprepared her to see it? She sat looking at it--still withoutmoving: still without saying a word. Alban had no mercy on her."That is the portrait of Miss Emily's father," he said. "Does itrepresent the same Mr. Brown whom you had in your mind when youasked me if Miss Emily's father was still living?"

That question roused her. She looked up, on the instant; sheanswered loudly and insolently: 'No!"

"And yet," Alban persisted, "you broke down in reading theinscription: and considering what talkative woman you are, theportrait has had a strange effect on you--to say the least ofit."

She eyed him steadily while he was speaking--and turned to Emilywhen he had done. "You mentioned the heat just now, miss. Theheat has overcome me; I shall soon get right again."

The insolent futility of that excuse irritated Emily intoanswering her. "You will get right again perhaps all the sooner,"she said, "if we trouble you with no more questions, and leaveyou to recover by yourself."

The first change of expression which relaxed the iron tensity ofthe housekeeper's face showed itself when she heard that reply.At last there was a feeling in Mrs. Rook which openly declareditself--a feeling of impatience to see Alban and Emily leave theroom.

They left her, without a word more.