“That’s a pretty cross, child,” cried Mrs. Levison as Isabel stood by her when tea was over, and she and Mrs. Vane were about to depart on their evening visit.

She alluded to a golden cross, set with seven emeralds, which Isabel wore on her neck.  It was of light, delicate texture, and was suspended from a thin, short, gold chain.

“Is it not pretty?” answered Isabel.  “It was given me by my dear mamma just before she died.  Stay, I will take it off for you.  I only wear it upon great occasions.”

This, her first appearance at the grand duke’s, seemed a very great occasion to the simply-reared and inexperienced girl.  She unclasped the chain, and placed it with the cross in the hands of Mrs. Levison.

“Why, I declare you have nothing on but that cross and some rubbishing pearl bracelets!” uttered Mrs. Vane to Isabel.  “I did not look at you before.”

“Mamma gave me both.  The bracelets are those she used frequently to wear.”

“You old-fashioned child!  Because your mamma wore those bracelets, years ago, is that a reason for your doing so?” retorted Mrs. Vane.  “Why did you not put on your diamonds?”

“I—­did—­put on my diamonds; but I—­took them off again,” stammered Isabel.

“What on earth for?”

“I did not like to look too fine,” answered Isabel, with a laugh and a blush.  “They glittered so!  I feared it might be thought I had put them on to look fine.”

“Ah!  I see you mean to set up in that class of people who pretend to despise ornaments,” scornfully remarked Mrs. Vane.  “It is the refinement of affectation, Lady Isabel.”

The sneer fell harmlessly on Lady Isabel’s ear.  She only believed something had put Mrs. Vane out of temper.  It certainly had; and that something, though Isabel little suspected it, was the evident admiration Captain Levison evinced for her fresh, young beauty; it quite absorbed him, and rendered him neglectful even of Mrs. Vane.

“Here, child, take your cross,” said the old lady.  “It is very pretty; prettier on your neck than diamonds would be.  You don’t want embellishing; never mind what Emma says.”

Francis Levison took the cross and chain from her hand to pass them to Lady Isabel.  Whether he was awkward, or whether her hands were full, for she held her gloves, her handkerchief, and had just taken up her mantle, certain it is that it fell; and the gentleman, in his too quick effort to regain it, managed to set his foot upon it, and the cross was broken in two.

“There!  Now whose fault was that?” cried Mrs. Levison.

Isabel did not answer; her heart was very full.  She took the broken cross, and the tears dropped from her eyes; she could not help it.

“Why!  You are never crying over a stupid bauble of a cross!” uttered Mrs. Vane, interrupting Captain Levison’s expression of regret at his awkwardness.

“You can have it mended, dear,” interposed Mrs. Levison.