The Castlecourt Diamond Mystery

Lord Castlecourt was so fond of her he’d have forgiven her anything. They’d been married five years when I entered my lady’s service, and he was as much in love with her as if he’d been married but a month. And I don’t blame him. She was the prettiest lady, and the most coaxing, I ever laid eyes on. She might well be Irish: there was blarney on her tongue for all the world, and money ready to drop off the ends of her fingers into any palm that was held out.

There was no story of misfortune but would bring the tears to her eyes and her purse to her hand: generous and soft hearted she was to every creature that walked. No one could be angry with her long. I’ve seen Lord Castlecourt begin to scold her, and end by laughing at her and kissing her. Not but what she respected him and loved him. She did both, and she was afraid of him too. No one knew better than my lady when it was time to stop trifling with my lord and be serious.