e on her bosom.

"I--I can't do it, Percy! Besides, it wouldn't be any use. It's strange
how little you know of the Marquess; you, his own son! Why, even I, who
have known him so short a time, know that to ask for them, to hint for
them, would be of no use. They are the family diamonds; they're
something more than jewels in his eyes--don't you understand that?--he
will have to grow to like me a good deal better than he does before he
gives them to me. It's no use, Percy. You must think of something else."

"There is no other way," he said.

He dropped back, his head sunk on his breast, his teeth gnawing at the
projecting under-lip; and she stood looking down at him, though scarcely
seeing him. Suddenly he glanced up at her, his lips twitching; a certain
furtive gleam in his light eyes.

"Oh, well, never mind, old girl!" he said, with an affectation of
concurrence. "Perhaps you're right. We'll give it up. Don't worry; after
all, I dessay I shall find another way out. Here! you'd better go back
to the old man. Go and play to him; he likes you to." As she moved
towards the door, he called to her in a cautious undertone. "Here!
Miriam, come back. Now I come to think of it, I'm sure you're right as
to not giving him a hint. Don't do it; in fact, if he says anything
about the diamonds, say that you'd rather not have them at present. You
can say that we're likely to be moving about, and that you'd rather wait
until we've settled down. You might lose 'em, don't you know."

Miriam looked at him, as if puzzled by this sudden _volte-face_; then,
with a slight shrug of her shoulders, went out of the room. When the
door had closed on her, Heyton rose and began to move about the room
unsteadily. His narrow forehead was contracted, as if he were thinking
deeply; his lips worked, his hands closed and unclosed in his pockets in
which they were thrust, and he glanced from side to side furtively. So
might a criminal look while plotting a coup more than usually risky and
dangerous. Presently he came alongside the table on which the footman
had placed the spirit-bottles and syphons. Heyton mixed himself a stiff
glass of whisky and soda, drank it almost at a draught, then nodded at
the reflection of himself in the mirror opposite him.

"I think I could work it," he muttered. "Yes, I think I could work it."

CHAPTER XXIII

Miriam went on to the drawing-room. The Marquess was sitting in his
usual deep chair, his hands folded on