Mr. Franklin know about it?" I inquired. "Ask him," says Penelope. "And
see whether HE thinks it a laughing matter, too." With that parting
shot, my daughter left me.

I settled it with myself, when she was gone, that I really would ask Mr.
Franklin--mainly to set Penelope's mind at rest. What was said between
us, when I did ask him, later on that same day, you will find set
out fully in its proper place. But as I don't wish to raise your
expectations and then disappoint them, I will take leave to warn you
here--before we go any further--that you won't find the ghost of a
joke in our conversation on the subject of the jugglers. To my great
surprise, Mr. Franklin, like Penelope, took the thing seriously. How
seriously, you will understand, when I tell you that, in his opinion,
"It" meant the Moonstone.



CHAPTER IV


I am truly sorry to detain you over me and my beehive chair. A sleepy
old man, in a sunny back yard, is not an interesting object, I am well
aware. But things must be put down in their places, as things actually
happened--and you must please to jog on a little while longer with me,
in expectation of Mr. Franklin Blake's arrival later in the day.

Before I had time to doze off again, after my daughter Penelope had left
me, I was disturbed by a rattling of plates and dishes in the servants'
hall, which meant that dinner was ready. Taking my own meals in my own
sitting-room, I had nothing to do with the servants' dinner, except to