“This is a very pretty design, madam,” insinuated the returning Mr. Smarm. “The colour of these stones is very beautiful.”
“Yes, but I don’t think I’m going to have diamonds,” I persisted, feeling quite amazed at my own boldness. I meant, however, to carry my point. “I’d rather have pearls—or opals——”
“Very seldom a young lady chooses opals for her engagement ring,” smiled the shopman. “That superstition against opals loses our firm thousands of pounds’ business a year; the majority of ladies considering them so unlucky.”
“I am not superstitious,” I said. “I would like—I am going to have an opal ring, with very small stones in it.”
“We are going to have diamonds,” remarked my employer quietly. “Fetch me some other diamond rings to look at.”
“I would rather not have them,” I urged, in the temporary absence of the black curls and white teeth.
“And I would rather that you had,” ordered my employer. “After all, diamonds are the show-stones; everybody notices them. They look so unmistakably like an engagement, don’t you see?”
“Yes—I see,” I said reluctantly, my nerves feeling more jangled than ever. “But, Mr. Waters, if I must have them, I shall insist upon sending back that ring when——”
“When the time comes we can discuss that,” the Governor cut me short just as Mr. Levi Smarm bent over us with his wave-offering of jewels on a tray. “Yes. That’s a good one, that big fellow with the stones going nearly all round. Those seem a fine colour.”
“A perfect colour, sir; perfectly matched. I am sure that you will——”