“May I be permitted to retire, sir?” inquired Mrs. Lecount.

“Certainly not!” replied her master.  “Stay here, Lecount, and keep us company.  Mrs. Lecount has my fullest confidence,” he continued, addressing Magdalen.  “Whatever you say to me, ma’am, you say to her.  She is a domestic treasure.  There is not another house in England has such a treasure as Mrs. Lecount.”

The housekeeper listened to the praise of her domestic virtues with eyes immovably fixed on her elegant chemisette.  But Magdalen’s quick penetration had previously detected a look that passed between Mrs. Lecount and her master, which suggested that Noel Vanstone had been instructed beforehand what to say and do in his visitor’s presence.  The suspicion of this, and the obstacles which the room presented to arranging her position in it so as to keep her face from the light, warned Magdalen to be on her guard.

She had taken her chair at first nearly midway in the room.  An instant’s after-reflection induced her to move her seat toward the left hand, so as to place herself just inside, and close against, the left post of the folding-door.  In this position she dexterously barred the only passage by which Mrs. Lecount could have skirted round the large table and contrived to front Magdalen by taking a chair at her master’s side.  On the right hand of the table the empty space was well occupied by the fireplace and fender, by some traveling-trunks, and a large packing-case.  There was no alternative left for Mrs. Lecount but to place herself on a line with Magdalen against the opposite post of the folding-door, or to push rudely past the visitor with the obvious intention of getting in front of her.  With an expressive little cough, and with one steady look at her master, the housekeeper conceded the point, and took her seat against the right-hand door-post.  “Wait a little,” thought Mrs. Lecount; “my turn next!”

“Mind what you are about, ma’am!” cried Noel Vanstone, as Magdalen accidentally approached the table in moving her chair.  “Mind the sleeve of your cloak!  Excuse me, you nearly knocked down that silver candlestick.  Pray don’t suppose it’s a common candlestick.  It’s nothing of the sort—­it’s a Peruvian candlestick.  There are only three of that pattern in the world.  One is in the possession of the President of Peru; one is locked up in the Vatican; and one is on My table.  It cost ten pounds; it’s worth fifty.  One of my father’s bargains, ma’am.  All these things are my father’s bargains.  There is not another house in England which has such curiosities as these.  Sit down, Lecount; I beg you will make yourself comfortable.  Mrs. Lecount is like the curiosities, Miss Garth—­she is one of my father’s bargains.  You are one of my father’s bargains, are you not, Lecount?  My father was a remarkable man, ma’am.  You will be reminded of him here at every turn.  I have got his dressing-gown on at this moment.  No such linen as this is made now—­you can’t get it for love or money.  Would you like to feel the texture?  Perhaps you’re no judge of texture?  Perhaps you would prefer talking to me about these two pupils of yours?  They are two, are they not?  Are they fine girls?  Plump, fresh, full-blown English beauties?”