bility, quite dropped the idea of a continued pursuit. They
didn't say so, but it was on the line of giving up Maggie's present
that they practically proceeded--the line of giving it up without
more reference to it. The Prince's first reference was in fact quite
independently made. "I hope you satisfied yourself, before you had done,
of what was the matter with that bowl."

"No indeed, I satisfied myself of nothing. Of nothing at least but that
the more I looked at it the more I liked it, and that if you weren't so
unaccommodating this would be just the occasion for your giving me the
pleasure of accepting it."

He looked graver for her, at this, than he had looked all the morning.
"Do you propose it seriously--without wishing to play me a trick?"

She wondered. "What trick would it be?"

He looked at her harder. "You mean you really don't know?"

"But know what?"

"Why, what's the matter with it. You didn't see, all the while?"

She only continued, however, to stare. "How could you see--out in the
street?"

"I saw before I went out. It was because I saw that I did go out. I
didn't want to have another scene with you, before that rascal, and I
judged you would presently guess for yourself."

"Is he a rascal?" Charlotte asked. "His price is so moderate." She waited
but a moment. "Five pounds. Really so little."

"Five pounds?"

He continued to look at her. "Five pounds."

He might have been doubting her word, but he was only, it appeared,
gathering emphasis. "It would be dear--to make a gift of--at five
shillings. If it had cost you even but five pence I wouldn't take it
from you."

"Then," she asked, "what IS the matter?"

"Why, it has a crack."

It sounded, on his lips, so sharp, it had such an authority, that she
almost started, while her colour, at the word, rose. It was as if he
had been right, though his assurance was wonderful. "You answer for it
without having looked?"

"I did look. I saw the object itself. It told its story. No wonder it's
cheap."

"But it's exquisite," Charlotte, as if with an interest in it now made
even tenderer and stranger, found herself moved to insist.

"Of course it's exquisite. That's the danger." Then a light visibly came
to her--a light in which her friend suddenly and intensely showed.
The reflection of it, as she smiled at him, was in her own face. "The
danger--I see--is because you're superstitious."

"Per Dio, I'm superstitious! A crack is a crack--and an