"I have no objection," said Blake dreamily. "Good gracious!" and he pulled himself together. "Why should I object? Of course the safety of Lady Waveryng's diamonds is a matter of concern to the State."
"Why, Mr. Blake," said pretty Mrs. Allanby, from the depths of a squatter's chair in the verandah, where she had been ensconced listening to all that was going on. "That's against your principles, as a Radical, isn't it? I've heard you say that there ought to be no heirlooms, and no tying up of capital in family jewels. We have none of us got any family jewels, and so you needn't be afraid of hurting our feelings by saying so. Now, Lord Horace, please don't hurt my hand. I have got some rings, and I wear them on my right hand, remember."
This was Mrs. Allanby's way of covering a devotion that was serious to her as well as to Lord Horace.
Mrs. Allanby had a way of rippling on, not waiting for an answer, emphasizing her remarks by upliftings of her large dark eyes in a fashion that was effective. Lord Horace, at the sound of her voice, had darted across through the French window.
"I didn't know you were out here. I came over to see you," he murmured. "What have you done with your sister and brother-in-law? "she asked.
"They are looking round among the cedar-cutters. Waveryng wanted to inspect the local industries. I thought Ina could manage that business. They only came up yesterday, and it was my only chance of coming over and seeing when you would all come along to the Dell."
"You must settle that with Mrs. Hallett," said Mrs. Allanby. She got up, uncoiling herself, as it were, with a certain serpentine grace. Mrs. Allanby was of the type of woman, slender, lithe, secretive, self-contained, and fascinating, which has something of the snake in it. She was always gentle and low voiced and plaintive; her movements were soft, her eyes were dangerous, she had a sleek small head and irregular features, and a complexion sallow by
