ts of boisterous laughter and of the
waltz-music of the pianola in the hall, for in the shooting season the
echoes of the fine mansion were awakened by the merriment of as gay a
crowd as any who assembled in the Highlands.

Sir Henry heard it. The sounds jarred upon his nerves. Mirth such as
theirs was debarred him for ever, and he had now become gloomy and
misanthropic. He sat fingering those big oval matrices of bronze,
listening to Gabrielle's voice deciphering the inscriptions, and
explaining what was meant and what was possibly their history. One which
Sir Henry declared to be the gem of them all bore the _manus Dei_ for
device, and was the seal of Archbishop Richard (1174-84). Several
documents bearing impressions of this seal were, he said, preserved at
Canterbury and in the British Museum, but here the actual seal itself
had come to light.

With all the enthusiasm of an expert he lingered over the matrice,
feeling it carefully with the tips of his fingers, and tracing the
device with the nail of his forefinger. "Splendid!" he declared. "The
lettering is a most excellent specimen of early Lombardic." And then he
gave the girl the titles of several works, which she got down from the
shelves, and from which she read extracts after some careful search.

The sulphur-casts sent with the matrices she placed carefully with her
father's collection, and during the remainder of the evening they were
occupied in replying to several letters regarding estate matters.

At eleven o'clock she kissed her father good-night and passed out to the
hall, where the pianola was still going, and where the merriment was
still in full swing. For a quarter of an hour she was compelled to
remain with the insipid young ass Bertie Girdlestone, a man who
patronised musical comedy nightly, and afterwards supped regularly at
the "Savoy"; then she escaped at last to her room.

Exchanging her pretty gown of turquoise chiffon for an easy wrap, she
took up a novel, and, switching on her green-shaded reading-lamp, sat
down to enjoy a quiet hour before retiring. Quickly she became engrossed
in the story, and though the stable-chimes sounded each half-hour she
remained undisturbed by them.

It was half-past two before she had reached the happy _denouement_ of
the book, and, closing it, she rose to take off her trinkets. Having
divested herself of bracelets, rings, and necklet, she placed her hands
to her ears. There was only one ear-ring; the othe