e. And now
she began to despair of ever learning to breathe with ease the
rarefied atmosphere of the socially elect. The stifling midsummer air
that stagnated in Huckster's Bargain Basement was preferable, heavy
though it was with the smell of those to whom soap is a luxury
and frequently a luxury uncoveted; there, at least, sincerity and
charity did not suffocate and humbler virtues flourished.

Bitterly Sally begrudged the concession that she had been wrong. All
along she had nourished her ambition for the society of her betters on
the conviction that, with all her virtues, she was as good as anybody.
To find that with all her faults she was better, struck a cruel blow
at her pride.

A low whistle interrupted at once her morose reflections and the mute
activity of the search.

Immediately she heard the detective exclaim: "What's this?"

Miss Pride uttered a shrill cry of satisfaction; Mrs. Standish said
sharply: "Aunt Abby's solitaire!"

To this chorus Mr. Lyttleton added a drawl: "Well, I'm damned!"

Unable longer to contain her alarm and curiosity, Sally sprang from
her chair and confronted four accusing countenances.

"What do you know about this?" the detective demanded.

Clipped between his thumb and forefinger a huge diamond coruscated in
the light of the electrics.

Momentarily the earth quaked beneath Sally's feet.

Her eyes were fixed on the ring and blank with terror; her mouth
dropped witlessly ajar; there was no more colour in her face than in
this paper; never a countenance spelled guilt more damningly than
hers.

"Yes!" Miss Pride chimed in triumphantly.

"_What_ have you to say to this, young woman?"

Sally heard, as if remotely, her own voice ask hoarsely: "What--what
is it'?"

"A diamond ring," Mason responded obviously.

"Aunt Abby's," Mrs. Standish repeated.

Mason glanced at this last: "You recognise it?"

The woman nodded.

"Where did you find the thing?" Sally demanded.

"Rolled up inside this pair of stockings." Mason indicated the limp,
black silk affairs which he had taken from a dresser-drawer. "Well,
how about it?"

"I don't know anything about it. I tell you I never saw it before."

The detective grinned incredulously. "Not even on Mrs. Gosnold's
finger?"

"No--never anywhere."

"Mrs. Gosnold seldom wears the ring." Mrs. Standish put in; "but it is
none the less hers."

"Well, where's the rest of the stuff'?" Mason insisted.

"I don't know. I tell you, I k