m
in an envelope. The other jewels she dropped one by one into her lap,
and sat looking at them. At last, putting two necklets and two rings
back into the jewel-case, she placed the rest in a little green box, and
taking that and the envelope, went out. She called a hansom, drove to a
post-office, and sent a telegram:

PENDYCE, STOICS' CLUB.
"Be at studio six to seven.--H."

From the post-office she drove to her jeweller's, and many a man who saw
her pass with the flush on her cheeks and the smouldering look in her
eyes, as though a fire were alight within her, turned in his tracks and
bitterly regretted that he knew not who she was, or whither going. The
jeweller took the jewels from the green box, weighed them one by one, and
slowly examined each through his lens. He was a little man with a yellow
wrinkled face and a weak little beard, and having fixed in his mind the
sum that he would give, he looked at his client prepared to mention less.
She was sitting with her elbows on the counter, her chin resting in her
hands, and her eyes were fixed on him. He decided somehow to mention the
exact sum.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, madam; that is the utmost."

"Very well, but I must have it now in cash!"

The jeweller's eyes flickered.

"It's a large sum," he said--"most unusual. I haven't got such a sum in
the place."

"Then please send out and get it, or I must go elsewhere."

The jeweller brought his hands together, and washed them nervously.

"Excuse me a moment; I'll consult my partner."

He went away, and from afar he and his partner spied her nervously. He
came back with a forced smile. Mrs. Bellew was sitting as he had left
her.

"It's a fortunate chance; I think we can just do it, madam."

"Give me notes, please, and a sheet of paper." The jeweller brought
them.

Mrs. Bellew wrote a letter, enclosed it with the bank notes in the bulky
envelope she had brought, addressed it, and sealed the whole.

"Call a cab, please!"

The jeweller called a cab.

"Chelsea Embankment!"

The cab bore her away.

Again in the crowded streets so full of traffic, people turned to look
after her. The cabman, who put her down at the Albert Bridge, gazed
alternately at the coins in his hands and the figure of his fare, and
wheeling his cab towards the stand, jerked his thumb in her direction.

Mrs. Bellew walked fast down a street till, turning a corner, she came
suddenly on a small garden