said Madame Beattie, "you'd better think twice about it. I'll give
you time. But I shall assuredly publish the name of the person who took
the necklace out of Esther's bag, as well as the fact that it had to be
in Esther's bag or it couldn't have been taken out. Two thieves, Jeff.
You'd better think twice."

"Yes," said Jeff. "I will think. Is it understood?" He walked over to
her and stood there looking down at her.

She glanced pleasantly up at him.

"Of course, my dear boy," she said. "I shouldn't dream of saying a
word--till you've thought twice. But you must think quick, Jeff. I can't
wait forever."

"I swear," said Jeff, "you are--" Neither words nor breath failed him,
but he was afraid of his own passion.

Madame Beattie laughed.

"Jeff," said she, "I've no visible means of support. If I had I should
be as mild--you can't think!"

He turned and, without a look at Esther, strode out of the room. Esther
hardly waited for the door to close behind him before she fell upon
Madame Beattie.

"Who did it?" she cried. "That woman?"

Madame Beattie was exploring a little box for a tablet, which she took
composedly.

"What woman?" she asked.

"That woman upstairs."

"Rhoda Knox? God bless me, no! Rhoda Knox wouldn't steal a button. She's
New England to the bone."

"Sophy?"

"Esther, you're a fool. Why don't you let me manage Jeff in my own way?
You won't manage him yourself." She got up with a clashing of little
chains and yawned broadly. "Don't forget Alston Choate sitting in the
dining-room waiting like a messenger boy."

"In the dining-room?"

"Yes. Did you think he'd go? He's waiting there to hear Jeff assault
you, and come to the rescue. You told him you were afraid." She was on
her way to the door, but she turned. "I may as well take this," she said
idly, and swept the necklace into her hand. She held it up and shook it
in the light, and Esther's eyes, as she knew they would, dwelt on it
with a hungry passion.

"You are taking it away," said Esther. "You've no right to. He said he
had paid you money on it when it was lost. If he did, it belongs to him.
And I'm his wife."

"I might as well take it with me," said Madame Beattie. "You don't act
as if you were his wife."

A quick madness shot into Esther's brain and overwhelmed it, anger, or
fright, she could not tell what. She did not cry out because she knew
Alston Choate was in the next room, but she spoke sobbingly:

"He did take it out of