was alone. "If I'm to be dragged down, I'll pull somebody with me, so
let them look out, that's all I've got to say;" and with a savage scowl
upon his face, he brought down his fist with a heavy blow upon the table
by which he stood.

Book 1, Chapter XV.

THE SAPPHIRE CROSS.

"How well Marion looks," said Ada Norton to her husband, as, seated in
one of the brilliantly-lighted drawing-rooms at the Castle, they watched
her receiving fresh guests, on the night of the party. The Nortons had
dined there, and all had gone off, so far, most successfully; people
coming from a great distance just for an hour in the evening,--an
invitation to the Castle being something not to be slighted.

"Yes, she looks well," said Norton, calmly. "The old weary air seems to
have passed away entirely. I used to think that Gernon did not use her
well, but, thank Heaven, I believe I misjudged him."

"Oh yes, I think so," said Mrs Norton, hastily. "I am so much in her
confidence that I think something of the kind would have oozed out, if
such had been the case. And yet I don't know," she continued in a tone
of reproach; "Marion has, like other people, her secrets."

Norton turned sharply round; but Lady Gernon approaching, the
conversation ceased.

"Mamma says you have not spoken to her to-night, Ada," said Lady Gernon,
whose face was flushed with excitement; and never had Norton thought her
beauty more regal than now, as she stood before him with a brilliant
tiara of sapphires and diamonds in her hair, while the large cross of
pure and costly gems rose and fell with the soft heaving of her bosom.

"You extravagant woman!" laughed Ada, in reference to her cousin's
jewels. "If I had those sapphires I should never dare to wear them."

"Murray always likes me to wear them on these particular occasions,"
said Lady Gernon, carelessly; and, after exchanging a pleasant smile
with Norton, she moved away towards where Mrs Elstree was seated.

In spite of himself, Sir Murray Gernon frowned at the sight of that
smile; but he turned away the next moment, to encounter his butler, at
whom he gazed for a moment, and then, walking close up to him, he said,
severely, "I told you I should not look over the next occasion, sir.
Come to the library for your wages at ten to-morrow morning."

John Gurdon's face broke out into a profuse perspiration as he heard
that sentence--one from which he knew there was no appeal--and he darted
a scowling look of