“Yes, she has lent it to me just for tonight. Isn’t it kind of her?”

His face had stiffened, but he said pleasantly: “Very kind, but I had rather you didn’t. It’s worth a king’s ransom, you know — and I’m certain Mama would say it was not the thing for a chit of your age!”

“No, she wouldn’t! She says that pearls are the only jewels chits of my age may wear! And I promise to take the greatest care — ”

“Haven’t you a necklace of your own?” he interrupted.

“Yes, but mere trumpery! If Jenny chooses to lend her pearls to me I don’t see why you should object!” Lydia said indignantly.

Jenny laid a hand on her arm, saying in rather a tight voice: “Perhaps they are not quite the thing. Your own crystals will be better — they are very pretty, after all! Come upstairs quickly, and change the necklace before Brough arrives! Please, Lydia!”

Lydia was suddenly aware of tension, and glancing from Adam to Jenny saw that Jenny’s face was much flushed. Yielding to the tug at her wrist she went out of the room with her, but demanded as soon as the door was shut: “But — but why?”

Jenny shook her head, and hurried up the stairs. “I shouldn’t have — he is perfectly right: you are too young!”

“But why should he be so vexed? It isn’t at all like him!”

Jenny took the pearls from her, and turned away to restore them to her jewel-casket. “He wasn’t vexed with you. Don’t heed it!”

“Was he vexed with you, then? But what had you done, pray?”

“It was only that he didn’t like to see you wearing my pearls. It was stupid of me! I forgot — it didn’t occur to me — ” She broke off, and forced up a smile, “Are you ready? Shall we go downstairs?”

“Do you mean that he didn’t like me to wear pearls that aren’t my own?” asked Lydia. “But I have often worn Charlotte’s trinkets!”

“That’s different. Adam has scruples — I can’t explain! One should take care, if one is very wealthy, not to — not to obtrude it! Well, it was a downright vulgar thing to have done! I didn’t mean it so, but that’s what it was: tossing my pearls to you like that!”

“It was excessively kind of you!” said Lydia. “Sisterly! Like buying this tippet for me! I collect Adam would object to that too?”

“Oh, don’t tell him!” Jenny begged. “It’s only a trifle, after all, but — Hark! wasn’t that the knocker? We must go down. I told them to serve dinner as soon as Brough arrived, because it won’t do to be late at the Opera House.”

She left the room, putting an end to further discussion. But Lydia had nothing to say. A curtain had been lifted, allowing her a glimpse behind the scene of what had seemed to her innocence a state of remarkable felicity. Too young to probe beneath the surface, it had not occurred to her that two people who presented to the world an appearance of calm content might not be as happy as they seemed. It was not the first time she had had such a disquieting glimpse, but on the previous occasion Adam had recovered himself so quickly that she had soon been able to forget the incident. He and Jenny seemed to stand on such easy terms that she had not wondered whether there were shoals beneath those placid waters. To his seventeen-year-old sister it was almost impossible to suppose that Adam was still in love with Julia. Sacrifice Lydia could appreciate; a smiling sacrifice was much harder to recognize, and very hard indeed to understand.

It was in a perturbed mood that she followed Jenny down to the drawing-room. There had been more than vexation in Adam’s face when he had seen that she was wearing Jenny’s pearls: there had been a look of revulsion; and Jenny had recognized it, and had been hurt by it. Between Adam and Jenny there could be no comparison, but it was, nevertheless, unkind of him to have wounded Jenny, who hadn’t meant to offend him.

She was relieved to see, as she entered the drawing-room, that he smiled warmly at Jenny. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, as she shook hands with Brough, she had refined too much upon the incident; perhaps Adam really felt that the pearls were too magnificent for a girl to wear.

Had she but known it, he was deeply conscious of having allowed his revulsion to overcome his forbearance. Seizing the opportunity afforded by her being engaged with Brough, he went up to Jenny, saying in a lowered tone: “Thank you! I shouldn’t have enjoyed a minute’s peace if you hadn’t persuaded her to take it off! What a hare-brained thing to do, to lend your pearls to my romp of a sister!” She answered only with a constrained smile. He was tempted to leave the subject, but she was wearing her wooden look, always a sign of distress. Infamous to have wounded her, he thought, when she had meant nothing but good! He tried again. “What’s more, it wouldn’t be at all the thing for a girl in Lydia’s circumstances to go about with a fortune round her neck.”

Her countenance relaxed; she said: “No, very true! I hadn’t considered — I only thought how well the necklace would become her. I’m sorry!”

“Which it certainly did! Poor Lydia! I wish I may not be in disgrace with her!”

She laughed, and Lydia, hearing her, instantly forgave Adam. Perhaps married persons were subject to tiffs; at all events, everything was comfortable again, with Jenny her placid self, and Adam in quite his best spirits. She went down to dinner feeling that it was going to be a good party after all, which, indeed, it was. Nor was there any further sign of misunderstanding between Jenny and Adam, so that she was soon able to banish the incident from her mind, and to think instead of all the excitements in store for her.

The best of these, in her opinion, would be the processions of the Allied Sovereigns to the Guildhall; for Jenny, everything else dwindled to insignificance beside the gilt-edged card which invited Lord and Lady Lynton to attend a Dress Party at Carlton House on Thursday, 21st July, to have the honour of meeting Her Majesty the Queen. Jenny’s first thought, on receiving this, was that it must be a hoax; her second that it was a thousand pities Lydia could not attend the function. She was astonished to learn that Lydia had no particular desire to attend it; and quite shocked by the discovery that the Regent, in Lydia’s view, was a fat old man, who creaked when he moved, and reeked of scent and Diabolino. He had visited Fontley when she was a very little girl, and she had been obliged to endure his pinching her cheek, and calling her sweetheart. “And the Queen is a snuffy old thing,” she said. “Watching the processions will be far better sport!”

Besides the four Oversleys, and Brough, Jenny had invited Mr and Mrs Usselby to go with them on this occasion. It was Adam’s private conviction that some of the guests would fail to arrive before the Strand was closed to vehicles; but he found that he had underrated Jenny’s talent for organization. She invited all the guests to partake of an early breakfast in Grosvenor Street, saying that she had not taken parties to watch the Lord Mayor’s Show for years without learning how to arrange such affairs. “It’s my belief that if you invite people to go to a show you must get them together, and take them to it, if you don’t wish to be in a worry, wondering if they’ll arrive in time.”

Thanks to this foresight all went smoothly, the guests assembling at Lynton House for breakfast, and going on afterwards in three carriages to the Strand. They reached their destination without much trouble, but early in the day though it was the street was fast filling with sightseers. Stabling had been arranged; but how long it would be after the processions had passed before the crowds converging upon the route dispersed sufficiently to allow the passage of vehicles was a question which caused Lord Oversley to remark ruefully to Adam that they might think themselves fortunate if they reached their homes again in time for dinner.

Mr Chawleigh, with his customary munificence, had hired the whole building for the accommodation of the party; and, besides ordering a large and varied nuncheon from Gunter’s, with several cases of his best champagne, he had sent Butterbank, with two liveried subordinates, to wait on the company. Lady Oversley was quite as much startled as Mrs Usselby at being received by two footmen, but when she had been conducted upstairs to the first floor, and saw that besides the benches set up in the windows the room had been furnished with several comfortable chairs she was easily able to condone this ostentation. Adam found it more difficult, but not by the flicker of an eyelid did he betray that these lavish preparations had been made without his knowledge or approval. The Usselbys might exchange significant glances, but Mr Charles Oversley, forgetful of the indifference befitting a man of mode, ejaculated, as his eyes fell on the table already spread with pies, pates, capons, a glazed ham, and fruit, creams, and jellies past counting: “By Jupiter, this is something like!”

There were some hours to while away before the head of the procession was expected to come into sight, but the time passed more quickly than the more pessimistic members of the party had expected. Lady Oversley sat down to enjoy a cosy chat with Jenny; Lord Oversley fell asleep over the Morning Post; and the rest of the party gathered in the two windows, discussing such topics as the breaking-off of the Princess Charlotte’s engagement, and the shocking result of Lord Cochrane’s trial; and being amused by watching the crowds in the street, and laying bets on which of the females within view would be the next to drop down in a swoon.

Since Brough was devoting himself to Lydia the merest civility must have obliged Adam to sit down beside Julia, but Lady Oversley, stealing more than one apprehensive look towards them, wished that she knew what they were saying to each other. She would scarcely have been reassured had she been able to overhear their conversation, for a chance recollection had led to the exchange of reminiscences, which she might have thought dangerous. Recalling visits to Fontley, Julia said with a sigh: “I suppose it is all changed now.”