ught up
the whole shop and lavished its contents upon her, though he knew that
the simple golden circlet would far outweigh all else in her mind.

He was waiting placidly for them in the shade of the dark trees of
Hauteville, when they came panting up the steep way, flushed with
victory and the joys of purchase after long abstinence.

"Well, has the proprietor of that big shop retired with a competence?"
he asked, as he threw away the end of his cigar.

"Can you lend us our boat-fares home?" gasped Miss Penny.

"So bad as all that? I can't say yet. I've not begun my own purchases.
We'll see when I'm through. If I'm cleaned out too we'll offer to work
our passages."

"You can pawn your watch. Meg and I haven't got one between us. We
left them at home on purpose."

"Thoughtful of you. Now let us into the treasure-house."

They enjoyed the wonders of Hauteville immensely,--objectively, the
wonderful carved work and the tapestries, the china and the
furniture,--the odd little bedroom with the bed on the floor, so that
the Master could roll out to his work at any moment of inspiration,
and the huge balconies, and the glass eyrie on the roof whence he
surveyed his wide horizons, and where, above the world, he
worked;--and subjectively, the whole quaint flavour and austere
literary atmosphere of the place.

"No wonder he produced masterpieces," said Graeme, delighting in it
all. "The view alone is an inspiration."

Then he took them up to Old Government House for lunch and a rest in
the garden, and then away to the Arcade to the jeweller's shop, which
proved adequate to all his demands;--for Margaret, a half-hoop of
diamonds which the jeweller, with an air of sincerity, assured them
were as fine stones as he had ever seen in the course of a long and
prosperous career. Which ring Margaret would thenceforth value before
all her others, though in the simple matter of intrinsic worth her
jewel-case could beat it hollow.--And a plain gold circlet which, when
she got it, would be more precious to her than all the rest put
together.--And for Miss Penny, in spite of her protestations, a
handsome signet ring which, when cornered, she chose in preference to
a more feminine jewel, and which was left to be engraved with her
family crest and motto.

"I have never adopted the habit of rings," she said, as they drifted
towards the ice-shop. "Chiefly, perhaps, because I never had any worth
wearing. But I've always thought I would