Her “improved” circumstances had not taught the peasant girl any refinement of manners.  She did not think it at all necessary to change her dress, or even to wash her face after her dusty drive.  But when dinner was announced, she went to the table as she had come into the house.  And she enjoyed her dinner as only a young person with a perfectly healthful and intensely sensual organization could.  She lingered long over her dessert of candied fruits, creams, jellies, and light wines.  And when the housekeeper came in at length with the strong black coffee, she made the woman sit down and gossip with her about London life.

While they were so employed, “the boy in buttons,” whose duty it was to attend the street door and answer the bell, entered the room and said: 

“A gemman down stairs axing to see the missus.  I told ’im ’er was at dinner, and mussent be disturbed at meals, which ’e hanswered, and said as ’is business were most himportant, and ’e must see you whether or no, ma’am, which I beg yer parding for ’sturbing yer agin horders.”

“It will be a mon frae Johnnie Scott.  He’ll be fetching me a message or some money.  Gae tell him to come in,” said Rose, in hopeful excitement.

“Must I bring the gemman up here, missus?” inquired Buttons.

“Ay, ye fule!  Where else?  Wad ye ask the gentlemon intil the kitchen?  And we had na that money rooms to choose fra!” said Rose, impatiently.

And indeed, in that great empty old house, she had but three to her own use—­the tawdry scarlet parlor, which was also her dining room; the equally tawdry scarlet chamber; and the dressing-room behind it.

The boy vanished and soon reappeared, ushering in the policeman in plain clothes.

“You will be coming frae Mr. Scott, wi’ a message?” said Rose, without rising to receive him.

“No, mum; haven’t the pleasure of that gent’s acquaintance, though I would like to enjoy it.  I come to Mrs. Scott, however, and on particular unpleasant business.  What is your full name, mum?” gruffly inquired the policeman, approaching her.

“And what will my name be to you, ye rude mon?  And wha ga’ed ye commission to force yersel, on my company at my dinner?” indignantly inquired Rose.

“My commission, as you call it, mum, lies in this warrant, which authorizes me to make a thorough search of these premises for property stolen from Lone Castle on the night of the first of June last.”

As the policeman spoke, Rose stared at him with eyes that grew larger, and a face that grew whiter every minute.  And as she stared, she suddenly recognized the visitor as the man she had seen in the jeweller’s shop, talking with the proprietor while the latter was pretending to be examining the watch she had put in his hand for repairs.

And now the whole truth burst upon her.  The watch had been recognized by the jeweller, who perhaps had seen it in Sir Lemuel Levison’s possession, or perhaps had had it in his own for cleaning, and he had sent for this policeman in plain clothes, who had followed her home, “spotted” the house, and then taken out a search-warrant.  Fright and rage possessed her soul.  And oh! in the midst of all, how she cursed her own folly in secreting those dangerous jewels in the house, and her madness in wearing the watch abroad.