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“I’ve got all these things to put away before my lady comes home, Luke; you might sit down here while I do it, I shan’t be long.”

Her cousin looked around in gawky embarrassment, bewildered by the splendor of the room; and after some deliberation selected the most substantial of the chairs, on the extreme edge of which he carefully seated himself.

“I wish I could show you the jewels, Luke,” said the girl; “but I can’t, for she always keeps the keys herself; that’s the case on the dressing-table there.”

“What, that?” cried Luke, staring at the massive walnut-wood and brass inlaid casket. “Why, that’s big enough to hold every bit of clothes I’ve got!”

“And it’s as full as it can be of diamonds, rubies, pearls and emeralds,” answered Phoebe, busy as she spoke in folding the rustling silk dresses, and laying them one by one upon the shelves of the wardrobe. As she was shaking out the flounces of the last, a jingling sound caught her ear, and she put her hand into the pocket.

“I declare!” she exclaimed, “my lady has left her keys in her pocket for once in a way; I can show you the jewelry, if you like, Luke.”

“Well, I may as well have a look at it, my girl,” he said, rising from his chair and holding the light while his cousin unlocked the casket. He uttered a cry of wonder when he saw the ornaments glittering on white satin cushions. He wanted to handle the delicate jewels; to pull them about, and find out their mercantile value. Perhaps a pang of longing and envy shot through his heart as he thought how he would have liked to have taken one of them.

“Why, one of those diamond things would set us up in life, Phoebe, he said, turning a bracelet over and over in his big red hands.

“Put it down, Luke! Put it down directly!” cried the girl, with a look of terror; “how can you speak about such things?”

He laid the bracelet in its place with a reluctant sigh, and then continued his examination of the casket.

“What’s this?” he asked presently, pointing to a brass knob in the frame-work of the box.

He pushed it as he spoke, and a secret drawer, lined with purple velvet, flew out of the casket.

“Look ye here!” cried Luke, pleased at his discovery.

Phoebe Marks threw down the dress she had been folding, and went over to the toilette table.

“Why, I never saw this before,” she said; “I wonder what there is in it?”

There was not much in it; neither gold nor gems; only a baby’s little worsted shoe rolled up in a piece of paper, and a tiny lock of pale and silky yellow hair, evidently taken from a baby’s head. Phoebe’s eyes dilated as she examined the little packet.

“So this is what my lady hides in the secret drawer,” she muttered.

“It’s queer rubbish to keep in such a place,” said Luke, carelessly.

The girl’s thin lip curved into a curious smile.

“You will bear me witness where I found this,” she said, putting the little parcel into her pocket.

“Why, Phoebe, you’re not going to be such a fool as to take that,” cried the young man.

“I’d rather have this than the diamond bracelet you would have liked to take,” she answered; “you shall have the public house, Luke.”