'Well, then,' I said, going up a bit in my bids to meet him, 'I'll put it like this. These gems are paste. But Lady Vandrift has an unconquerable and unaccountable desire to possess them. Money doesn't matter to her. She is a friend of your wife's. As a personal favour, won't you sell them to her for a thousand?'
He shook his head. 'It would be wrong,' he said,—'I might even add, criminal.'
'But we take all risk,' I cried.
He was absolute adamant. 'As a clergyman,' he answered, 'I feel I cannot do it.'
'Will you try, Mrs. Brabazon?' I asked.
The pretty little Scotchwoman leant over and whispered. She coaxed and cajoled him. Her ways were winsome. I couldn't hear what she said, but he seemed to give way at last. 'I should love Lady Vandrift to have them,' she murmured, turning to me. 'She is such a dear!' And she took out the links from her husband's cuffs and handed them across to me.
'How much?' I asked.
'Two thousand?' she answered, interrogatively. It was a big rise, all at once; but such are the ways of women.
'Done!' I replied. 'Do you consent?'
The curate looked up as if ashamed of himself.
'I consent,' he said slowly, 'since Jessie wishes it. But as a clergyman, and to prevent any future misunderstanding, I should like you to give me a
