and
quick.

"A return of that dizziness," he explained with a faint smile. "You are
thinking of the Valdez sapphire, are you not? Some day," he went on with
forced composure, "I may have the pleasure of showing it to you. It is at
my banker's just now."

Miss Panton's steps were heard in the hall. "You are well known as a
connoisseur, Mr. Acton," he went on hurriedly. "Is your collection
valuable? If so, _keep it safe; don't trust a ring off your hand, or the
key of your jewel case out of your pocket till the house is clear again_."
The words rushed from his lips in an impetuous whisper, he gave me a
meaning glance, and departed with his daughter. I went back to the
drawing-room, my head swimming with bewilderment.

"What! The dear bishop gone!" screamed Lady Carwitchet from the central
ottoman where she sat, surrounded by most of the gentlemen, all apparently
well entertained by her conversation. "And I wanted to talk over old times
with him so badly. His poor wife was my greatest friend. Mira Montanaro,
daughter of the great banker, you know. It's not possible that that
miserable little prig is my poor Mira's girl. The heiress of all the
Montanaros in a black lace gown worth twopence! When I think of her
mother's beauty and her toilets! Does she ever wear the sapphires? Has
anyone ever seen her in them? Eleven large stones in a lovely antique
setting, and the great Valdez sapphire--worth thousands and thousands--for
the pendant." No one replied. "I wanted to get a rise out of the bishop
to-night. It used to make him so mad when I wore this."

She fumbled among the laces at her throat, and clawed out a pendant that
hung to a velvet band around her neck. I fairly gasped when she removed
her hand. A sapphire of irregular shape flashed out its blue lightning on
us. Such a stone! A true, rich, cornflower blue even by that wretched
artificial light, with soft velvety depths of color and dazzling clearness
of tint in its lights and shades--a stone to remember! I stretched out my
hand involuntarily, but Lady Carwitchet drew back with a coquettish
squeal. "No! no! You mustn't look any closer. Tell me what you think of it
now. Isn't it pretty?"

"Superb!" was all I could ejaculate, staring at the azure splendor of that
miraculous jewel in a sort of trance.

She gave a shrill cackling laugh of mockery.

"The great Mr. Acton taken in by a bit of Palais Royal gimcrackery! What
an advertisement for Bogaerts et Cie! They are