huckled knowingly. This fat, pasha-like chuckle almost sent
Loring bounding from his seat.

The next thing he heard was a little scream of delight from Belinda:

"Oh, Santa!... You dear ... you _angel_!... Oh, _you_ shall have a prize
for this!... Just you wait.... Look, mater! Just _look_ what Lewis has
brought me this time!"

Morris glanced up to see the girl whirling about with a necklace of
great emeralds looped from hand to hand. The big, translucent stones
hung like threaded coals of green fire from her white fingers. She
danced up to her mother, then to Loring, thrusting the jewels under
their noses.

"Emeralds! Emeralds!" she sang. "I'd sell my soul for emeralds!"

"If you had one to sell...." said Morris under his breath to her.

She didn't seem to hear him. Dancing back to Cuthbridge, she put the
necklace into his hands again, and turning her back lowered her white
nape and cushion of ruddy hair before him.

"Put them on for me, Santa," she said. "I must _feel_ them on me...."

Loring stifled with helpless rage, while those thick white
over-manicured hands fumbled about the soft throat of Belinda. Oh!...
But just wait until he got her by herself!

Now she cried out, laughing:

"Oooo ... oo! How _cold_ they are!"

Cuthbridge said low, but not too low for Loring to hear:

"Ah ... but they'll be beautifully warm in a few minutes!..."

His voice gloated. So did his hands and his heavy, dense-blue eyes. He
was altogether a rather unpleasantly "gloatful" person, as a lover.
Loring quivered with wrath and nausea. He would have liked to tear
Cuthbridge "from the scabbard of his limbs."

"Dinner is served," said the old butler.

It was not until the next day at tea-time that Loring got a chance to
see Belinda alone. He came in just as she and her mother also returned
from a drive. "I must go up to have tea with Grace," said Mrs. Horton.
"You give Morry his tea, Linda."

"All right-o!" said Belinda cheerfully. She was her most glittering
self. Hair, eyes, brilliant skin and teeth--all were shimmering, as
though she gave forth a transparent, throbbing glow like a landscape in
the summer sun. She was all in green to-day, a vivid, bright green cloth
that sheathed her closely. Her shining, ruddy head rose from the rich
bitumen-black of costly furs. One of the many gifts of her Santa
Claus--Loring guessed. He longed to snatch them from her throat and
chuck them into the fire.

"Don't wonder you stare, ol