uineas for it!"

"I went with ready money in my hand, when I tempted the man with a
cheque to let me have it for two hundred and fifty pounds. In buying
jewelry you should always do that."

"I never buy jewelry," said Mrs. Dosett, crossly.

"If you should, I mean. Now, I'll tell you what I want you to do.
This is for Ayala."

"For Ayala!"

"Yes, indeed. I am not the fellow to stick at a trifle when I want to
carry my purpose. I bought this the other day and gave ready money
for it,--two hundred and fifty pounds,--on purpose to give it to
Ayala. In naming the value,--of course you'll do that when you give
it her,--you might as well say three hundred guineas. That was the
price on the ticket. I saw it myself,--so there won't be any untruth
you know."

"Am I to give it her?"

"That's just what I want. When I talk to her she flares up, and, as
likely as not, she'd fling the necklace at my head."

"She wouldn't do that, I hope."

"It would depend upon how the thing went. When I do talk to her it
always seems that nothing I say can be right. Now, if you will give
it her you can put in all manner of pretty things."

"This itself will be the prettiest thing," said Mrs. Dosett.

"That's just what I was thinking. Everybody agrees that diamonds will
go further with a girl than anything else. When I told the governor
he quite jumped at the idea."

"Sir Thomas knows you are giving it?"

"Oh, dear, yes. I had to get the rhino from him. I don't go about
with two hundred and fifty pounds always in my own pocket."

"If he had sent the money to Ayala how much better it would have
been," said poor Mrs. Dosett.

"I don't think that at all. Who ever heard of making a present to a
young lady in money. Ayala is romantic, and that would have been the
most unromantic thing out. That would not have done me the least good
in the world. It would simply have gone to buy boots and petticoats
and such like. A girl would never be brought to think of her lover
merely by putting on a pair of boots. When she fastens such a
necklace as this round her throat he ought to have a chance. Don't
you think so, Aunt Dosett?"

"Tom, shall I tell you something?" said the aunt.

"What is it, Aunt Dosett?"

"I don't believe that you have a chance."

"Do you mean that?" he asked, sorrowfully.

"I do."

"You think that the necklace will do no good?"

"Not the least. Of course I will offer it to her if you wish it,
because her uncle and I