wore, with its peculiar cut, like the spreading of flower petals
about the beautifully modeled shoulders--it struck him as familiar. Had
she worn any jewels upon that white neck when he had seen her? He thought
not. He had never known her to wear ornament of any sort, he was sure.
She needed none, he was equally sure of that. As she sat, with her head
turned toward Arthur Chester, who was expounding with great elaboration
something which called for maps upon the tablecloth drawn with a rapidly
moving finger, she was showing to the observers across the table a face
and head in profile, an outline which had been burned into the memory of
the man who now regarded it and forgot to make answer.

Miss Everett glanced at him curiously. Then she murmured: "Don't you
think the leaving off of all ornaments is sometimes just as much a
coquetry as the wearing of them would be? It certainly challenges notice
even more, doesn't it?"

"It depends on whether one happens to possess them, I should say," Leaver
returned.

"About their drawing attention, or their absence drawing it? I suppose
so. But when you don't know which it is, but judge by the richness of the
gown that the wearer can afford them--"

"I'm no judge of the richness of a gown."

"I am, then. That is the most wonderful lace--anybody can see--at least
any woman."

"Tell me, Miss Everett,"--Leaver made a determined effort to get away
from the personal aspect of the subject,--"why does a woman love jewels?
For their own sake, or because of their power to adorn her--if they do
adorn her?"

The young woman plunged animatedly into a discussion of the topic as he
presented it. She was wearing certain striking ornaments of pearl and
turquoise, which undoubtedly became her fair colouring whether they
enhanced her beauty or not. It was while this discussion was in progress,
Leaver forcing himself to attend sufficiently to make intelligent
replies, that Charlotte Ruston suddenly turned and looked at him. He
looked straight back at her, a peculiar intentness growing in his
deep-set eyes.

He did not withdraw his gaze until she had turned away again, and the
encounter had been but for the briefest space, yet when it was over John
Leaver's colour had changed a little. For the moment it was as if nobody
else had been in the room--he was only dully conscious that upon his
other side Winifred Chester was addressing him, and that he must make
reply.

When the company which had