FIRST PERIOD: THE LOSS OF THE DIAMOND (1848)
11. CHAPTER XI
(continued)
Miss Rachel received that proposal as she might, ten years since,
have received a proposal to part her from a new doll.
My lady saw there was no reasoning with her that night.
"Come into my room, Rachel, the first thing to-morrow morning,"
she said. "I shall have something to say to you." With those
last words she left us slowly; thinking her own thoughts, and,
to all appearance, not best pleased with the way by which they were
leading her.
Miss Rachel was the next to say good-night. She shook hands first
with Mr. Godfrey, who was standing at the other end of the hall,
looking at a picture. Then she turned back to Mr. Franklin,
still sitting weary and silent in a corner.
What words passed between them I can't say. But standing near the old
oak frame which holds our large looking-glass, I saw her reflected
in it, slyly slipping the locket which Mr. Franklin had given to her,
out of the bosom of her dress, and showing it to him for a moment,
with a smile which certainly meant something out of the common,
before she tripped off to bed. This incident staggered me a little
in the reliance I had previously felt on my own judgment. I began
to think that Penelope might be right about the state of her young
lady's affections, after all.
As soon as Miss Rachel left him eyes to see with, Mr. Franklin noticed me.
His variable humour, shifting about everything, had shifted about the
Indians already.
"Betteredge," he said, "I'm half inclined to think I took Mr. Murthwaite
too seriously, when we had that talk in the shrubbery. I wonder whether
he has been trying any of his traveller's tales on us? Do you really mean
to let the dogs loose?"
"I'll relieve them of their collars, sir," I answered, "and leave
them free to take a turn in the night, if they smell a reason for it."
"All right," says Mr. Franklin. "We'll see what is to be done to-morrow. I
am not at all disposed to alarm my aunt, Betteredge, without a very pressing
reason for it. Good-night."
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