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CHAPTER IX.

THERE is no doubt that a profession entailing continued anxiety about other people's property is rather a strain on one's faculties, and although some weeks had passed since my last alarm, I felt that a rest would do me no harm, and that I should work all the better if I put aside pearl-broking altogether for a few days.

So I accepted the invitation of some old friends, the Brockhursts, to Hampshire, and gaily bade adieu to my employer, Mr. Leighton, telling him not to expect me until he saw me.

I returned to his keeping all the pearls that remained unsold of those confided to me, retaining only one, the pink pearl, which was so perfect as to be almost priceless.

I had been unsuccessful in one or two attempts to sell it to jewellers at the price I demanded, but I still hoped to effect the sale | | 145 of it privately to some collector of rare jewels, and I therefore took it everywhere with me in a safe and secret pocket in my dress.

When I arrived at Hurst Dene I was warmly welcomed by the Brockhurst family--father, mother, and children and Mrs. Brockhurst led me to my room, and prepared to have a long talk with me.

"I am free, for a wonder," she said, "and I want to hear all your news and tell you all about everybody here, and then we shall start fair."

"I suppose you have a tremendous party, as usual?" I said. "You are never happy, Fannie, unless you are entertaining about two dozen people. What have you done with them all?"

"My dear," she said, "I have sent all of them to the flower show. George and I felt as if we must have a little peace; so I said I must be in to receive you, and he conducted them all there, and then sneaked away home. Now I'll tell you all about them."

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It was even a larger house party than I had anticipated.

To begin with, there was the newest millionaire, an Australian, young, good-looking, pleasant, with more money than he knew how to spend, and a generous, liberal way of spending as much as he could on all his friends.

There were three young couples, the usual riding, bicycling, tennis-playing pairs that one finds in country houses, three unattached young men, and a rich cousin, old and cranky, who had come uninvited in order to look after his only daughter and heiress, whom he was always suspecting of a latent tendency to make a mésalliance.

Their name was Fenton, and I had met the daughter, Adela, in town more than once, and liked her very much.

Lastly, there was the millionaire's secretary, a Mr. Blount, who went everywhere with him, and had more influence over him, people said, than anyone else in the world. They were, in fact, almost like two brothers, though two more opposite men could not be imagined, Mr. | | 147 Anderson being tall, fair, débonnair, and social, and favoured exceptionally by fortune in every way, while Mr. Blount was rather short, dark, saturnine, and, barring his lately acquired salary, penniless.

At the moment that I was introduced to them I felt a presentiment that Mr. Blount and I would have some unpleasant experience together.

Outwardly we got on very well from the first, and indeed he very soon singled me out for attention, but I felt sure that he did not like me really any better than I liked him, and that his apparent admiration, a little too obtrusive sometimes, was assumed for the sake of frustrating the friendship which Mr. Anderson began to establish with me.

"Mollie," said Fannie Brockhurst to me, seriously, at the end of the first week, "I wish you would not encourage Mr. Blount. He is not half good enough for you, and besides--" she broke off, hesitating.

"Besides what?" I said, "I don't like Mr. Blount at all, and I find it difficult to be always civil to him."

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"Oh, that's all right," she rejoined brightening, "then I may speak openly to you. The fact is, dear, I have seen him playing the same game before; he may be in earnest this time, but on every occasion when Mr. Anderson has shown preference for any woman's society, Mr. Blount has paid her marked attention, and with the same result. Mr. Anderson, who has a charming nature, has thought it unfair to put himself in rivalry with his secretary, feeling that his own wealth might place Mr. Blount at a disadvantage, and has, therefore, withdrawn.

"Mr. Blount has then pretended that his suit is rejected, and has withdrawn also, his only motive being to prevent Mr. Anderson's marriage, which would not suit his plans at all."

I quite agreed with Mrs. Brockhurst's opinion, but it was difficult, if not impossible, for me to shake off Mr. Blount, so persistent was he in his efforts to monopolise me.

Mr. Anderson's great friendship for him made it still less easy, for he often spoke to me in glowing terms of "Dick," as he called him, | | 149 and would have resented any slight offered to his secretary.

A singular chance, namely, the accidental mixing up of two telegrams, one intended for me being placed in Mr. Blount's envelope, and vice versâ, revealed to me that this apparently prosperous young man was in serious money difficulties, and was in want of a large sum in cash within a very short time. He made a plausible explanation to me of what the message meant, when the mistake was discovered, and I accepted it as though the whole matter was a joke, and of no consequence to either of us, but I had caught a look on his face when I handed him the telegram and asked for my own, that told me he was exceedingly wroth and troubled.

It was only a day or two after this that another slight mischance occurred, which also seemed trivial enough at the time. This was the breaking of a string of pearls that Adela Fenton wore always round her neck. They were strung in a single row, with a diamond clasp, and there was a history attached to them, | | 150 which Adela had laughingly related one night when some one had admired the necklace.

"Father gave it to me on my last birthday," she said, "and he was told that it belonged formerly to a famous singer who prized it greatly. It was a royal gift to her, on the occasion of her first brilliant success, and she had never unclasped it from her neck since the night when a King's hand placed it there. She was taken ill some years afterwards with a malignant fever, and at her death the necklace, which had remained round her neck all the time, was found to be quite discoloured. The stones looked like dull grey pebbles. Her heirs removed it, and sold it to a jeweller, who had it carried down by divers to the bottom of the sea and fastened there to a rock. After thirty years it was brought up again, when the pearls had recovered all their former whiteness and lustre."

I was interested in this legend, and asked to look at the necklace.

"I seldom take it off," said Adela, "only now and then to break the spell in case I should | | 151 share the actress's fate. Here it is, Mrs. Delamere."

I looked at it with attention the pearls were remarkably good ones, and I noticed that it had lately been re-strung. It was handed round for inspection, and I fancied that two people looked at it with special interest, Mr. Blount and a young barrister called Harry Duncan, who was thought to be in love with Adela, and was in consequence severely snubbed by her father.

At the moment when the necklace broke, Adela had just finished a game of tennis, and we were all standing in a group discussing the play, and making up a new set.

She gave a cry of dismay, and the next instant the pearls fell in a shower around her.

We all stopped to pick them up, and Mr. Blount dived under a rose-bush for some, and came out with several in the palm of his hand. She collected and counted them all gradually, and, putting them into a small box, carried them up to her room.

When we went upstairs to bed that evening she linked her arm affectionately in mine, and | | 152 asked me to come and brush my hair in her room.

I was longer than usual in undressing, as it happened, and when at last, brush in hand and clad in a dressing-gown, I ran along the passage to her bedroom, it was nearly twelve o'clock, and the lights in the upper part of the house had been put out.

As I passed a corner of the passage, the rustle of a dress and a subdued whisper caught my ear.

In the flickering light thrown by my candle I could only distinguish the back of a man moving quickly away, but the other person who was coming towards me, and who had not seen my light quickly enough to evade me, I saw quite plainly before she turned aside into a room and shut the door. She was one of the housemaids, a rather pretty, untidy girl whom I had seen, without noticing her much, once or twice.

I wondered who her fellow whisperer was, and what she was doing, and thought it was probably nothing very interesting.

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The only point to which my mind recurred was that the man who was hurrying away seemed familiar to me. It was, I felt sure, not one of the men-servants, but one of the gentlemen staying in the house.

"How late you are," said Adela; "now come and sit here, and I'll brush your hair for you. I always admire your hair, Mrs. Delamere, because it's so wavy and such a glorious colour, and what a heap of it you have."

I guessed from her manner that she had something to confide in me, and I drew her on gently until at last it all came out. She and Henry Duncan were in love with one another, and were secretly engaged, but the affair was hopeless, as her father had said he would never permit her to marry anyone who was not in receipt of a minimum income of £1,000 a year.

Harry had £150 a year allowance from his people and his profession, a briefless one at present. What was to be done?

She had been putting away some of her jewellery while she talked and as she took out, | | 154 a tray containing the broken string of pearls I asked leave to look at them.

I examined the clasp, and I saw that the string close to it must have been partly cut through before the final threads gave way. Then I looked at the pearls. I had a sort of detective feeling on me, and felt a sudden impulse to do these things.

Adela was silent, waiting for my advice about her engagement.

"When did you last take this necklace off before it broke," I asked.

She blushed vividly, to my surprise.

"Why do you ask?" she stammered.

"Because," I said, handing them back to her, "your pearls have been changed since that night when you told us their history. Some are the same and others very good imitations, that is all."

The colour fled as suddenly from her cheeks as it had come into them.

"How do you know, Mrs. Delamere?" she gasped. "Oh, it can't be true! What makes you think so?"

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"I don't think so," I said; "I know it. I have studied pearls, and I can detect imitations at once. I can tell you something more about your necklace, if you wish to; but I don't want to distress you, Adela. Only it is safer, perhaps, for you to know it."

"Tell me," she said hurriedly.

I could not account for her agitation; it was, I felt sure, caused by some feeling outside the natural grief at the loss of her stones.

"The string has been partly cut," I said, "see, here by the clasp. Your necklace was bound to break before long."

She clasped her hands together and burst into tears.

"Oh, what shall I do?" she said. "No one must ever know it. Mrs. Delamere, promise me you will keep my secret."

I promised not to tell anyone against her wish, and gradually soothed her, and finally she gave me the whole of her confidence.

The only occasion on which the necklace had been taken off was on an evening, two days before it broke, when Henry Duncan had | | 156 unclasped it from her neck, and, forgetting to put it back, had kept it in his pocket for some hours, till an opportunity came for returning it.

"I know he is very hard up," she sobbed, "but I am quite certain he would not change my pearls; only supposing it should come out that he had them in his possession that day, how awful it would be. I would not risk it for the world."

I quite sympathised with her feeling about it, and at the same time I felt a most absolute conviction that Henry Duncan had not taken the pearls, and that someone else in the house had done so, and had made a deliberate plan beforehand.

When at last I left her, consoled by my promise that no one should know without her permission, my mind was full of vague surmises, and I lay awake all the rest of the night trying to solve the problem.

And just before morning the possible solution flashed into my head with the sudden certainty of an inspiration, and I decided at once what I would do in order to discover the thief and take | | 157 the weight off poor Adela's heart. Accordingly, I engaged Mr. Anderson in conversation, and leading him skilfully to the subject of his hobbies, I found that he was interested in the acquisition of curios, and especially of rare jewels.

This was exactly what I hoped for, and I followed it up by telling him that I had been entrusted with the sale of a pink pearl whose price was almost prohibitive, and that I would show it to him if he liked.

I took it to the library so that he might examine it quietly, and away from the other guests, and here we were joined by Mr. Blount, who never failed to interrupt any conversation between us as quickly as possible.

Mr. Anderson did not hesitate at all about the price for the pearl, large as it was, and arranged for the immediate purchase of it. When this was completed, and I handed the pearl to him, he said he should like to show me some other stones and jewels of various kinds which he had bought from time to time.

He asked Mr. Blount to fetch the case containing them, and when it arrived, he detached | | 158 a small gold key from his watch chain, saying: "Just open it, Dick, old man; I want to show some of my pretty things to Mrs. Delamere, and we will put the pearl in here, too."

Then turning to me, he added: "I never part with that key; it's always on my chain, and under my pillow at night in company with my revolver. I have a dislike to keeping things in banks or safes; I like to have my things about me, ready to hand when I take a fancy to look at them."

I pretended to be absorbed in the contents of the case, and deliberately asked Mr. Anderson to let me take an amulet he was showing me to the light, knowing that he would consent, and would follow me to the window.

Then I watched Mr. Blount, and saw him adroitly withdraw the key, hold it in his hands for a moment with his back to us, and then slip it into the lock again.

That was all I wanted.

There was nothing else to be done now, but to wait for Mr. Blount's next move.

It was not long in coming.

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The next day he said he must go to town for a few hours, on important business.

I waited till he was well on his way, and then I sought out Mr. Anderson.

I told him in confidence, having wrung an unwilling consent from Adela, the whole story of her necklace; and then I said to him:

"Mr. Anderson, I am quite sure that I have traced the thief, but it is the very last man whom you would suspect, and before I tell you his name, I want you, if you don't mind, to get your jewel case, and see if your pink pearl is safely there."

He was amazed, and even the liking I knew he felt for me was scarcely proof against his evident annoyance.

"I will do as you wish," he replied, "but I am at a loss to understand what you can possibly mean."

He fetched the box and opened it, lifting up each of the trays in turn.

The pearl was not there!

"Now," I said, "I am going to ask you one more favour. Will you say nothing about this | | 160 occurrence to anyone? Will you wait quietly till to-morrow, and will you then open your jewel-case when you are alone? If the pearl is there will you bring it to me?"

He hesitated for some moments, then he acquiesced.

Mr. Blount returned from town that evening, and devoted himself to me more persistently than ever.

I detected a new motive in this.

He had felt mistrustful and suspicious of me ever since the sale of the pink pearl; he did not understand how it came about that I was in a position to sell jewels of this value, and no doubt it had occurred to him that possibly I understood pearls, and that danger lay in that direction.

He had urged Mr. Anderson to leave Hurst Dene, telling him that some business in town required his personal attention, and it was settled they should depart in two days' time, and I knew that the reason was to divide me and the pink pearl as much as possible.

The next day Mr. Anderson sent a message | | 161 asking me to come and speak to him in the library.

I guessed his reason, but I was a little nonplussed when I found Mr. Blount awaiting me there too, though the look on his face told me something had happened.

"Mrs. Delamere," said Mr. Anderson, "I can see you are surprised to find Mr. Blount here. But I like doing everything as much on the surface as possible, and I have had an affection for this man that was almost brotherly; therefore I wish to let him down easily. Here is the pearl; I found it replaced in the box this morning, and I asked him"--he carefully avoided saying "Dick,"--"if he knew anything about its temporary disappearance. He then confessed to me that he had felt doubtful as to its real value, and had taken it to show an expert who had pronounced it all right. It was exceedingly kind of him to act in my interest in this matter, no doubt; but I am not sure I appreciate the kindness. In fact, I have just owned up to him that there is a mystery in which you and I are interested, that we should | | 162 be glad of his help to clear up. Do you give me leave to tell him more?"

"Let me see the pearl, please," I said quietly.

After scrutinizing it I handed it back. "This is not the pearl," I said, "though it is an excellent imitation of it. I have something more to tell you, Mr. Anderson, which I have learnt since we last spoke of this. The under-housemaid here has just confessed to me that she partially cut the string of Miss Fenton's necklace at the instigation of a gentleman staying here--who asked her to do it in order to help him to win a bet he had made that the necklace would break--she declines to tell the name of the gentleman, and she only confessed it at all because she was offered a higher bribe than he gave her, and was assured that the fact of the string having been cut by her was already known. If pressure were put upon her, no doubt she would give the name, but I have left that for you to decide."

I forebore to look at Mr. Blount, but his voice told me what his sensations were.

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"I congratulate Mrs. Delamere on her cleverness," he said, "and if I had known that a lady detective was disguised as a guest of this house, I should have laid my plans better. What are you going to do with me?" he concluded, defiantly, turning to Mr. Anderson.

"You have played your last card badly," Mr. Anderson answered. "If you had not ventured to insult this lady you would have done better for yourself. As it is, I don't intend to prosecute you. You must hand over to me as much of the price you got for the pearl as remains in your possession, and you must sign a confession. I shall, of course, buy back my pearl, and Miss Fenton's also. And you can go to the--" he stopped.

"I won't say what I was going to at this moment," he continued. "Kindly sit where you are, and don't attempt to leave the room. I wish to speak privately to Mrs. Delamere."

He led me to the window-seat, and spoke a few words to me, and then I left them together. They departed for town the next day, and a few days afterwards, when I returned to my | | 164 flat, taking Adela Fenton with me for a visit, Mr. Anderson called, and we had a long talk together. And the result of it all is, that Adela Fenton has her pearls back again, and is engaged, with her father's consent, to Harry Duncan, who is Mr. Anderson's new private secretary at a salary of £850 a year.

And the pink pearl has again changed hands, for it belongs now to me, and was given to me, as one of my wedding presents on the happy day when I became Mrs. Anderson, and gave up the profession of pearl-broking once and for all.

THE END.