morning. I thought it well to let her know about Miss Temple's arrival.
"She is a thoroughly nice girl," I said. "She will nurse you when you
want to be nursed, and amuse you when you wish to be amused, and let
you alone when you want quiet, and you will find her so fresh and
bright and entertaining that you will soon, I am persuaded, be unable
to do without her. Good-bye, now--I hope you will soon be much better,
both for your mother's sake and your own."
Lady Violet raised her brows.
"Is mother unhappy about me?" she asked.
"She loves you," I replied, steadily, "and is getting quite worn out
with anxiety about you. I wish her mind to be relieved as soon as
possible, and I think it is your duty to do what you can towards this
end."
"What can you mean?" asked Lady Violet.
"In your mother's presence," I answered, "you ought to endeavour as
much as possible to overcome the melancholy which has taken such
possession of you. Seem to be gay, even when you don't feel it. Try
to appear well, even when you don't think you are. When you are alone
with Miss Temple, you can do, of course, exactly as you please. But
when with your father and mother, you ought to make a strenuous effort
to overcome the morbid feelings, which are due entirely to the nervous
weakness from which you are suffering."
Lady Violet looked at me intently.
"I love my father and mother," she exclaimed. "I would not willingly
hurt the feelings of either. But, oh! how little you know what I suffer
when you speak of my suppressing my trouble and terrible depression. Am
I not always--always suppressing my fears? Oh, how hateful life is to
me--how distasteful, how hollow. I should like to die beyond anything,
and yet I am such a coward that the near approach of death would
terrify me. Why was I born to be so miserable?"
"You were born to be happy," I answered, "or, at least, to be useful
and contented. Your fear of death is perfectly natural, and I hope
it will be many a long day before you are called upon to resign so
precious a possession as life. Remember, you have only one life--use it
well--you will have to account for it some day; and now, good-bye."
I returned to London, and in about a week's time I received a letter
from Miss Temple. It satisfied me thoroughly. Lady Violet was better.
She went out for a little daily. She read to herself, and allowed Miss
Temple to read to her. She was interested in a fancy fair which was to
be held in the neighbourhood, and was helping Miss Temple to work for
it. The nurse had also discovered that her patient had a love, almost
a passion, for music. Miss Temple was an accomplished pianist before
she took up her present profession, and she and Lady Violet spent a
considerable portion of each day over the piano.
In short, Miss Temple was doing all that I expected her to do for the
young girl whose life was so valuable. Lady Violet was undoubtedly
already acquiring that outward view which means health both of mind and
body.
Miss Temple's first letter was followed in the course of time by
another, which was even more hopeful than the first. Lady Violet was
devotedly attached to her, and could scarcely bear her out of her
presence. The girls rode together, walked together, sketched and
played together. The colour of health was coming back to Lady Violet's
pale cheeks; she would soon, in Miss Temple's opinion, be restored to
perfect health.
[Illustration: "THE GIRLS RODE TOGETHER."]
Lady Erstfield also wrote to me about this time, and spoke in rapture
of the companion whom I had secured for her daughter.
"I cannot tell you what Beryl Temple is to us," she said; "we owe
Violet's recovery to her wonderful tact, her sympathy, her genius.
She is like no girl I ever met before--she fascinates and subjugates
us all--we do not want ever to part with her--as to Violet, it would
almost kill her, I think, were Beryl Temple now to leave us."
About a month after receiving these two letters I was astonished and
much pleased to see an announcement in the _Morning Post_ to the effect
that a matrimonial alliance was arranged between Lady Violet Dalrymple,
only daughter of the Earl and Countess of Erstfield, and Captain
Geoffrey Ponsonby, of the Coldstream Guards, and that the marriage was
likely to take place in December.
On reading this short paragraph I turned to my case-book, and under
Lady Violet's name made the following note:--
"_A case of neurasthenia, in which environment with moral treatment
caused recovery._"
I then dismissed the subject from my mind, with the final reflection
that I should not have much more to do with Lady Violet.
The following circumstances quickly proved my mistake.
On the evening of that same day I had a letter from Miss Temple,
confirming the news of the approaching marriage; telling me that it had
been contemplated for some time by the parents of the young people,
but that a formal engagement had been deferred owing to the state of
Lady Violet's health. Captain Ponsonby had arrived at Beeches about a
fortnight ago, had proposed for Lady Violet, who had accepted him not
without a certain unwillingness, and the marriage was arranged to take
place immediately after Christmas.
"Lady Violet is not as well as I could wish," continued Miss Temple,
towards the close of her letter. "At first she refused absolutely to
engage herself to Captain Ponsonby, but yielded to the entreaties of
both her parents, who are most desirous for the match. She is once
more languid, and inclined to be uninterested in her surroundings. I
am not satisfied about her state, and deeply regret Captain Ponsonby's
arrival--she was really in radiant health when he came to the house
a fortnight ago. Lord and Lady Erstfield quite fail to observe their
daughter's state of depression--they are both in the highest spirits,
and active preparations for the wedding are going forward."
This letter caused me uneasiness--it was followed almost immediately by
a second.
"DEAR DR. HALIFAX," wrote Miss Temple, "I am in great, in dreadful,
trouble--not alone about Lady Violet, whose condition alarms me much,
but on my own account. In short, I am bewildered by the fearful
calamity which has suddenly overtaken me. I have not a soul to confide
in, and greatly long to see you. I know I must not expect you to come
here, and yet it is impossible for me, under existing circumstances, to
ask for a day off duty. God help me; I am the most unhappy girl in the
world!
"Yours sincerely,
"BERYL TEMPLE."
I received this letter by the last post one night. It caused me some
wakeful hours, for I was greatly puzzled how to act. By the morning
I resolved to write a line to Lady Erstfield, telling her that I had
heard from Miss Temple of Lady Violet's altered condition, and offering
to come to see her. That letter was not destined to be written,
however. As I was sitting at breakfast a telegram was put into my hand.
It was from Lord Erstfield, requesting me to go to Beeches immediately.
I started off by an early train and arrived at my destination about
noon. I was shown at once into a reception-room, where Lady Erstfield
awaited me.
"It is good of you to respond so quickly to our telegram," she said.
"We are in terrible trouble here. Violet is in the strangest condition.
She is very feverish; her strength seems completely gone. She lies hour
after hour moaning to herself, and takes little notice of anyone."
"How long has this state of things gone on?" I asked.
"The complete breakdown only took place yesterday, but Miss Temple
assures me that Violet has been failing for some time. Her father and
I noticed on one or two occasions that she seemed pale and languid,
but as there was a good deal to excite her, we put her fatigue down to
that source. Under your judicious treatment and the admirable care Miss
Temple gave her, we considered her perfectly recovered, and it did not
enter into our minds that a recurrence of the old attack was possible."
"When you speak of Lady Violet having much to excite her, you doubtless
allude to her engagement?" I said. "I saw it officially announced in
the _Morning Post_. I judged from it that she had quite recovered."
Lady Erstfield coloured.
"We thought so," she said; "her father and I both thought so. We were
much pleased at the contemplated marriage, and we imagined that our
child was happy, too. Captain Ponsonby is all that anyone can desire."
"And you have reason not to be satisfied now?" I asked.
"The fact is this," said Lady Erstfield, shortly: "Violet is
unhappy--she does not wish the engagement to go on. She told Miss
Temple so this morning. I have seen my dear child on the subject an
hour ago--we cannot account for her caprice in this matter."
"I will see Lady Violet now, if you will permit me," I said. "The
engagement is, doubtless, the cause of this strange breakdown. Will you
take me to her room?"
Lady Erstfield led the way without a word.
I found my patient even worse than her mother had given me to
understand. In addition to much nervous trouble, she had unquestionably
taken a chill of some sort, and symptoms of pneumonia were manifesting
themselves. When I bent over her, I noticed the deep flush on her
cheeks, her eyes were closed--her breathing was short and hurried. Miss
Temple was standing by the bedside--she gave me an earnest glance,
her face was as pale as Lady Violet's was flushed. I noticed that
Lady Erstfield avoided speaking to the nurse, who, on her part, moved
slightly away as she approached. The despair, however, which must have
filled the poor mother's heart as she watched her suffering child might
in itself account for her manner. I was very anxious to see the nurse
alone, and asked Lady Erstfield if I could do so.
"Certainly," she answered; "I will watch here until Miss Temple is able
to resume her duties."
"I will not be long away," answered Beryl. She took me at once into
Lady Violet's pretty little boudoir and shut the door.
"I must be very quick," she said, "my place is with Violet. You think
her very ill?"
"I do," I answered. "Her life is in danger. She is threatened with
pneumonia. If the symptoms grow worse, she will not have strength to
bear up under the attack."
"Oh, then, I must not think of myself--even now I manage to soothe her
as no one else can. Let me go back!"
"Sit down," I answered; "you will not be fit long to nurse anyone
unless you look after yourself. What is the matter with you? You are
greatly changed!"
"Did I not tell you in my letter that I am in great trouble?"
Miss Temple's words were interrupted by a knock at the door of the
boudoir.
She said "Come in," and a manservant entered. He approached Lady
Violet's little writing-table, disturbed a book or two, and finally
retreated with an "A B C" in his hand, apologizing as he did so.
"Do you know who that man is?" asked Miss Temple.
[Illustration: "HE APPROACHED LADY VIOLET'S WRITING-DESK AND DISTURBED
A BOOK OR TWO."]
"One of the servants," I replied; "never mind him--tell me your
trouble as quickly as possible."
"He is connected with it, unfortunately. He is not one of the usual
servants of the house, although he wears the livery. That man is a
detective from Scotland Yard, and he came into the room just now to
watch me. He, or his fellow detective, for there are two here, watch me
wherever I go. On one excuse or another, they enter each room where I
am found."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I will tell you in as few words as possible--can you wonder that I am
changed?"
"I am lost in conjecture as to what you can possibly mean," I answered,
looking at her anxiously.
In truth I had cause for my anxiety.
Her fine face looked absolutely aged and worn. Her eyes were almost
too large--their expression was strained--they had heavy black lines
under them. Her mouth showed extreme dejection. When I remembered the
blooming, healthy girl who had gone to Beeches two months ago, I was
appalled by the change.
"Speak," I said; "I am deeply interested. You know that I will do
everything in my power to help you."
"This is my story," she said: "Lady Violet got quite well--I was much
attached to her, we were very happy--it seemed like the old life back
again, when my mother was alive and I had a luxurious home. Lord and
Lady Erstfield treated me more like a daughter than a nurse; Lady
Violet was my dear sister. Then Captain Ponsonby came. He proposed, and
was accepted. Immediately after the engagement Lady Violet drooped; she
no longer gave me her confidence; she lost her appetite; she became
constrained and silent. Once or twice I caught her crying--she turned
away when I tried to question her. Lord and Lady Erstfield noticed no
change, and Captain Ponsonby came and went as an honoured guest. No one
seemed to notice the efforts Lady Violet made to seem at home in his
society.
"One morning about ten days ago Lady Erstfield, accompanied by Captain
Ponsonby, came into this room, where I was reading aloud to my dear
little patient. I could not imagine why they did not observe her pale
cheeks and her languor. I saw, however, at a glance that Lady Erstfield
was in a high state of excitement and delight. She held a jewel-case
in her hand. She opened it and, bending down, showed its glittering
contents to her daughter. I was startled at the effect on Lady Violet.
She clapped her hands in ecstasy and sat upright on the sofa. Her eyes
had grown suddenly bright, and her cheeks rosy.
"'How I adore diamonds,' she said, 'and what beauties these are: oh,
you lovely creatures! But, mother, why do you show them to me?'
"'They are my present to you, Violet,' said Captain Ponsonby. 'These
diamonds are heirlooms in the family, and are of great value. They will
be yours when we are married.'
"'Come and look at them, Beryl,' exclaimed Lady Violet. 'Are they not
splendid?' As she spoke she lifted a diamond necklace of extraordinary
brilliancy and quaint device out of the case. I knelt down by her and
examined the gems with delight almost equal to her own. I have always
had a great love for jewels, and for diamonds in particular, and these
were quite the most magnificent I had ever seen. The necklace was
accompanied by a tiara and earrings, and the gems were worth, Lady
Erstfield said, from fifteen to twenty thousand pounds.
"We spent some time examining and criticising them. Violet sent for a
looking-glass from one of the bedrooms in order to see the effect of
the jewels round her throat. She insisted on my trying them on as well
as herself. Lady Violet is fair, but, as you know, I am very dark. I
could not help seeing for myself that the jewels suited me. Lady Violet
uttered an exclamation when she saw them on me. 'You look beautiful,
Beryl,' she said.
"I laughed, and was about to answer her, when I met Captain Ponsonby's
eyes. There was something in his expression which I did not quite like.
I unfastened the necklace quickly and laid it back in its velvet bed.
"'Thank you for letting me try it on,' I said. 'I feel as if for one
brief moment I had imprisoned the rainbow.'
"I don't know why I said those words. They did me no good afterwards,
but I was excited at the time. The magnificent diamonds had really cast
a spell over me. Lady Erstfield suggested that Violet should go out for
her usual ride.
"'No, mother; I am too tired,' she replied. 'I will drive instead, and
Beryl shall come with me.'
"'Run and get ready, then,' said Lady Erstfield to me.
"I was leaving the room when she suddenly called me back.
"'My dear,' she said, giving me the case which held the diamonds as
she spoke, 'will you have the goodness to take these to my room, and
lock them up in my jewel safe? Here is the key. You must turn the lock
twice, and when the revolving shutter moves back, use this smaller key
to unlock the inner compartment. Put the case in there, and bring me
back the keys when you have changed your dress.'
[Illustration: "YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL, BERYL!"]
"I promised to obey, and ran off with a light heart.
"The safe where Lady Erstfield kept her jewels was built into the
wall, and was of a very ingenious device. Following her directions
implicitly, I opened it, placed the case within, and locked the safe
carefully again. I then went and changed my dress and returned the keys
to Lady Erstfield. Captain Ponsonby, Lady Violet, and I had a pleasant
drive, and nothing more was said about the diamonds--I really think we
all forgot them.
"The next morning Lady Violet came down to breakfast, looking so
ghastly pale and so depressed, that even her mother uttered an
exclamation of surprise when she saw her.
"'My darling, you look positively ill,' she said, going up and kissing
her.
"Lady Violet gave her a startled and queer look. She made some remark
in a very low voice, and with a pettish movement. She then crossed the
room to my side, and Lady Erstfield did not question her any further.
"Just as we were leaving the breakfast-table, Captain Ponsonby
announced his intention of running up to town for the day, and suddenly
suggested that he should take the diamonds with him in order to give
the jeweller plenty of time to re-set them in the most thorough manner.
"'That is a good thought, Geoffrey,' said Lady Erstfield. Then she
turned to me.
"'You know where the jewels are, Beryl,' she said--'here are my
keys--run, dear, and fetch them. I don't allow even my own maid to
know the secret of my jewel safe,' she continued, looking at Captain
Ponsonby as she spoke.
"I ran away, reached Lady Erstfield's room, unlocked the safe, and put
in my hand to take out the case. It had vanished. I searched for it
at first without any uneasiness, then in bewilderment, then in a sort
of frantic terror. There was the empty spot on the floor of the safe
where I had placed the case--there were the other cases of jewels
pushed aside in some little confusion, but the Ponsonby diamonds had
absolutely vanished.
"The full horror of the situation had not yet burst upon me--I had
not yet even begun to _think_ that anyone would suspect me, but,
nevertheless, I felt sick with a sort of nameless terror.
"I locked the safe and returned to the breakfast-room.
"Lord Erstfield was standing by the hearth, talking to Captain
Ponsonby--Lady Erstfield was reading the _Times_, and Violet was
kneeling on the floor playing with her favourite pug. Their peaceful
faces added to my misery. I know I must have looked wild and
frightened--I know when I spoke that my voice must have shaken.
"'The diamonds are gone,' I said; 'they are not in the safe.'
"It was just as if I had flung a bomb into the midst of the cheerful
party. Lord Erstfield drew himself up with a dazed expression. Captain
Ponsonby turned white, and Lady Erstfield, with a sharp cry, rushed
from the room, snatching the keys from my hand as she did so.
"'There is no use in Lady Erstfield examining the safe,' I said, 'the
diamonds are certainly not there--I have searched all the shelves. The
spot where I placed them yesterday is empty; the case has vanished.'
"'I don't believe it,' said Violet. 'The diamonds must be there. You
must be mistaken, Beryl.'
"I made no reply, but when the others left the room I followed.
"We all now went up in a body to Lady Erstfield's room, and the safe
was carefully examined by Lord Erstfield and Captain Ponsonby. The case
containing the diamonds was indeed missing, but not another jewel, not
even the smallest ring had been touched. There was no mark of the safe
having been tampered with in any way, and as it was made on a perfectly
unique pattern, and there was not supposed to be a key in the world to
fit it, except the special ones made for it, the whole affair seemed
buried in hopeless mystery. No one accused me in any way, and it never
occurred to me, as I stood in that room, to accuse myself. We discussed
the matter in all its bearings. We stood round the open safe and talked
until we were tired. I described the exact position in which I had
placed the case. Lady Erstfield was certain that from the moment I
returned her the keys they had not been out of her possession until she
had again placed them in my hands that morning.
"Finally we left the room in a state of hopeless bewilderment. Violet
and I went away by ourselves, and, sitting down together, discussed the
strange mystery from every point of view. The loss of the jewels had
much excited her. She had regained her colour and her manner was quite
animated.
"'I thought, at least, I should have the diamonds,' she said, with a
queer sort of desolate echo in her voice, 'and I love diamonds: they
seem to comfort me in the strangest way. I feel akin to them. When they
sparkle and leap and glitter, they appear to me to be alive; they tell
me secrets of the strange things they have witnessed in the course of
their long existence. Think, if the Ponsonby diamonds could speak, what
stories they could tell of the queer, queer things they have seen and
heard; eh, Beryl?'
"I tried to turn the conversation--Lady Violet was always worse after
indulging in wild talk of this sort.
"'We have now to consider how to get the Ponsonby diamonds back,' I
said. 'Who can have stolen them?'
"We talked the matter threadbare, arriving, of course, at no conclusion.
"At lunch we were surprised to find that Captain Ponsonby had not gone
to London. When the servants withdrew, we were told that the affair of
the diamonds had been put not only into the hands of the local police,
but that the authorities in Scotland Yard had been communicated with,
and that in all probability a couple of detectives would be sent to
Beeches that night.
"'We have decided,' said Lord Erstfield, 'not to say anything of our
loss to the servants. The person who stole those diamonds is quite
clever enough to hide them if the least alarm is raised. Our best
chance of recovering the treasure is through detectives, who will come
here, of course, in plain clothes. We are expecting several fresh
guests to-morrow, and in consequence the servants have heard that two
new men-servants from London are coming here to help them. We have
communicated this fact to Scotland Yard, and the men will be provided
with the house livery.'
"After making this statement, which he did very briefly, Lord Erstfield
left the room.
"The early part of the afternoon passed listlessly. Lady Violet was
once more pale, deadly tired, and too languid to care to do anything. I
persuaded her to lie down, and offered to read her to sleep.
"'No,' she answered; 'I don't want anyone to read to me. I will shut
my eyes and think of the diamonds. Go and take a walk, Beryl; you look
pale and tired yourself.'
"I saw she did not want me, and, putting on my hat, I went out for a
stroll. I had gone a little way from the house when I heard footsteps
behind me. I turned and saw, to my surprise, that Captain Ponsonby was
following me.
"'I noticed that you had gone out,' he said, 'and took the liberty of
coming after you.' He grew red as he spoke. 'I want to say something to
you,' he said; 'something of importance. Can we go somewhere where we
can be alone?'
"I told him that I was going to walk through the shrubbery, and that he
might, if he pleased, accompany me there; 'but,' I added, 'I shall not
be out long, for I am anxious about Lady Violet and want to return to
her.'
"We entered the shrubbery as I spoke. He did not speak at all for a
moment; then he said, with a sort of abruptness which surprised me:--
"'I will not keep you long. I am glad of this opportunity.' Here he
paused, and, turning, looked me full in the face.
"'If you will give me back the diamonds,' he said, 'I will faithfully
promise to arrange matters so that not a breath of suspicion shall rest
upon you.'
"I felt as if I were shot. His words took me so completely by surprise
that I could not find either breath or speech for a moment.
"'Do you really think,' I said then, in a choking voice--'is it
possible that you think, really, that I--I have stolen the diamonds?'
"I suppose my agitation confirmed his suspicions.
"He looked at me with a queer sort of pity.
[Illustration: "I FELT AS IF I WERE SHOT!"]
"'I could see yesterday how struck you were with their beauty,' he
said. 'Do you remember what you said about imprisoning the rainbow? The
opportunity to take the diamonds was put into your hands. You could
not resist the sudden temptation, but I am sure you are sorry now, and
would return them if it were possible. I believe I can manage this for
you, if you will confide in me.'