Lady Isabel chased away the tears, and turned to Captain Levison with a cheerful look.  “Pray do not blame yourself,” she good-naturedly said; “the fault was as much mine as yours; and, as Mrs. Levison says, I can get it mended.”

She disengaged the upper part of the cross from the chain as she spoke, and clasped the latter round her throat.

“You will not go with that thin string of gold on, and nothing else!” uttered Mrs. Vane.

“Why not?” returned Isabel.  “If people say anything, I can tell them an accident happened to the cross.”

Mrs. Vane burst into a laugh of mocking ridicule. “’If people say anything!’” she repeated, in a tone according with the laugh.  “They are not likely to ‘say anything,’ but they will deem Lord Mount Severn’s daughter unfortunately short of jewellery.”

Isabel smiled and shook her head.  “They saw my diamonds at the drawing-room.”

“If you had done such an awkward thing for me, Frank Levison,” burst forth the old lady, “my doors should have been closed against you for a month.  There, if you are to go, Emma, you had better go; dancing off to begin an evening at ten o’clock at night!  In my time we used to go at seven; but it’s the custom now to turn night into day.”

“When George the Third dined at one o’clock upon boiled mutton and turnips,” put in the graceless captain, who certainly held his grandmother in no greater reverence than did Mrs. Vane.

He turned to Isabel as he spoke, to hand her downstairs.  Thus she was conducted to her carriage the second time that night by a stranger.  Mrs. Vane got down by herself, as she best could, and her temper was not improved by the process.

“Good-night,” said she to the captain.

“I shall not say good-night.  You will find me there almost as soon as you.”

“You told me you were not coming.  Some bachelor’s party in the way.”

“Yes, but I have changed my mind.  Farewell for the present, Lady Isabel.”

“What an object you will look, with nothing on your neck but a schoolgirl’s chain!” began Mrs. Vane, returning to the grievance as the carriage drove on.

“Oh, Mrs. Vane, what does it signify?  I can only think of my broken cross.  I am sure it must be an evil omen.”

“An evil—­what?”

“An evil omen.  Mamma gave me that cross when she was dying.  She told me to let it be to me as a talisman, always to keep it safely; and when I was in any distress, or in need of counsel, to look at it and strive to recall what her advice would be, and to act accordingly.  And now it is broken—­broken!”

A glaring gaslight flashed into the carriage, right into the face of Isabel.  “I declare,” uttered Mrs. Vane, “you are crying again!  I tell you what it is, Isabel, I am not going to chaperone red eyes to the Duchess of Dartford’s, so if you can’t put a stop to this, I shall order the carriage home, and go on alone.”