customers were
women but he liked them none the more because of their sex. They
generally came to sell, not to buy, and most of them knew how to drive a
hard bargain. He shuffled into the shop with a scowl on his lined yellow
face.

"What d'ye want?" he growled.

Most girls would have been nervous at such a reception. Not so this one.

"I want to sell this brooch. How much will you give me for it?" said
she, undauntedly.

"Don't want to buy it. Go somewhere else."

"I shan't. Too much trouble. Besides, you're going to buy it, dear Dr.
Mountchance."

The imploring eyes, the beseeching voice, soft and musical, the modest
yet assured manner, were too much for the old man. Unconscious of the
destiny awaiting her, Lavinia was employing the same tenderness of look,
the same captivating pathos of tone as when two years later she, as
Polly Peachum, sang "Oh ponder well," and won the heart of the Duke of
Bolton.

"H'm, h'm," grunted Mountchance, "you pretty witch. Must I humour ye?"

"Of course you must. You're so kind and always ready to help others."

The doctor showed his yellow fangs in a ghastly grin that gave a
skull-like look to his dried face.

"Hold thy wheedling tongue, hussy. This trinket--gold you say?"

"Try it, you know better than I."

Dr. Mountchance took the brooch into the inner room, weighed it, tested
the metal and returned to the shop.

"I can give you no more than the simple value of the gold. 'Tis not
pure--a crown should content ye."

"Well, it doesn't. Do you take me for a cutpurse? I'm not that sort."

"How do I know? You use thieves' jargon. Where did you pick it up?"

Lavinia gave one of her rippling laughs.

"That's my business and not yours. I tell you it's honestly come by and
I want a guinea for it. You know it's worth five and maybe more. The man
who gave it me--I don't care for him you may like to know--isn't mean.
He'd spend a fortune on me if I'd care to take it but I don't." She
tossed her head disdainfully.

"Oh, 'tis from your gallant. Aye, men are easily fooled by bright eyes.
Well--well----"

Lavinia's ingenuous story had its effect. Not a few of Dr. Mountchance's
lady customers preferred money to trinkets and he did a profitable trade
in buying these presents at his own price. Some of these flighty damsels
were haughty and patronising and others were familiar and impudent. The
old man disliked both varieties. Lavinia belonged to neither the first
nor the second.