The Master of the Ceremonies Part 54

"Yes, sir. I say, your bread's beginning to be b.u.t.tered thick. Look here."

He drew out another case as they stood alone in the front room.

"There's a set of pearls, sir. There's l.u.s.tre and regularity. Two fifty guineas, Denville."

"But, my dear Barclay," said the host, striving to recover his equanimity, "why have you brought those here?"

"Why have I brought 'em? Don't you know? Well, I'll tell you. Old Carboro' wants to pay a delicate attention to a lady he admires, and he bade me bring two or three things here to choose from. I mean to sell old Drelincourt the one he does not take. Look, I've two more lots."

"But, my dear Barclay, surely you will not attempt to sell or barter here--in my house," said Denville piteously.

"Not try? Oh, won't I, though! Why, my dear Denville, you don't suppose I came to waste time, do you? Not I."

There was an announcement here, and Denville had to hide the feeling of annoyance mingled with pleasure that came upon him, for there could be no doubt in his own mind for whom the jewels were intended.

How would Claire treat the offer?

The guests began to arrive fast now, and the shabbiness of the candle-decked room was soon turned into a suitably subdued setting to the rich dresses which Mrs Barclay scanned in turn, and decided were not so good as her own.

The incident about the jewels troubled Denville more and more, and he found himself glancing from time to time at the beautiful woman in her simple, pearl-tinted satin, who was doing the honours of his house so gracefully.

"Yes," he sighed, "worthy to be a Countess, but--" He drew his breath hard. Poor as he was, it seemed too terrible a sacrifice.

Then the temptation came upon him very strongly again. Rich, admired, beautiful, an enviable position; and, once she was married, the terrible disclosure that would some day perhaps come would not affect her.

"Colonel Mellersh; Mr Richard Linnell," announced Isaac; and a feeling of jealous anger against the young man he had been obliged to invite came over him, but had to be hidden by a smile as the two new-comers advanced to Claire.

Denville watched them keenly; but Claire's face was as calm as if they had been total strangers. She gave them both a most courteous greeting.

That was all.

"Lord Carboro'," announced Isaac.

There was a little excitement here, as the wealthy old beau entered, looking very keen and sharp, but very old; and as Denville saw him take Claire's hand, the feeling of elation was swept away by a cold, despairing chill. It was impossible.

And yet, as his lordship stood chatting to the beautiful girl, Denville noticed that there was a change in her. She seemed brighter and more animated. She smiled at the old man's remarks, and once more the impossible seemed to be growing possible, for Claire was only a woman, after all.

Colonel Mellersh saw this too, and half sneeringly turned to Richard Linnell.

"There," he said, "much good you've done by making me bring you. I believe your syren has captivated old Carboro'."

"Just look at the old man," whispered Mrs Barclay to her husband.

"Why, I declare, he's quite gallant."

"Hold your tongue, and don't you let it go, old woman. Here he is."

"Pinch of your snuff, Barclay," said the old dandy, coming up smiling.

"My compliments to you, Mrs Barclay. You look charming."

"Oh, my lord!" said Mrs Barclay, rising to curtsey, and saying to herself, "As if I didn't know better than that."

"I can't think what you were about to marry such an ugly old scoundrel as Barclay here. Have you brought anything?"

He took Barclay's arm, and they walked into the back drawing-room, where there were a couple of card-tables.

"d.i.c.k," said Colonel Mellersh, "old Carboro's going to borrow money, or else--by Jove, he's getting a present from him for your beloved."

"I thought you were my friend, Mellersh," said Linnell, with his brow knitting.

"So I am. Look."

"I am not a spy," said Linnell coldly, and he turned away.

"What have you brought?" said Lord Carboro'.

"These diamonds, my lord, this string of pearls, and a large diamond bracelet. Look at these diamonds, my lord--"

"Don't talk. I don't want everybody to see. Lay them on the table.

No: show me the pearls."

"They are perfect, my lord, and--"

"Hold your tongue, man. That will do."

"I'll slip out this bracelet, my lord. No; I'll go and give it to my wife. She shall put it on, and you can go and talk to her, and see how beautiful it is in design."

"Hold your tongue, man. The pearls will do. How much?"

"Three hundred guineas, my lord. They are--"

"Bah! Robbery! I'll give you two hundred down. Do you think I want credit?"

"But, my lord, I should lose heavily."

"And a doosid good thing too, Barclay. You want bleeding. Am I to have them?"

"Two fifty, my lord, as you are so old a friend."

"Two hundred--in an instant. Yes, or no?"

"Well, yes, my lord."

"Give me another pinch of snuff, Barclay, and hold the pearls in your hand. Never mind the case. Thanks, that will do. Come for the money in the morning."

The exchange was ingeniously effected, but Colonel Mellersh saw it, and his lips tightened as he glanced at Richard Linnell.

"He's got the pearls, old woman," said Barclay, going back to his wife where she sat fanning herself, and alone.

"How much?"