“Which I expect increases its value; and that must be great, apart from the antiquity of the thing. These stones are very large and very lustrous. Look at this, Bradstone!”
“Yes?” said Faradeane, carelessly. “I am no judge of gems. None could be too pure for Miss Vanley.”
“Yes, very jolly,” said Bartley Bradstone. “Put it on and let Faradeane see how you look in it.” She did not offer to comply, but stood with the necklet in her hands; and he took it from her and put it round her neck, and struck an attitude. “What do you think of it, Faradeane?” he exclaimed.
Faradeane looked at her for a moment and smiled.
“The old gems were never so honored before,” he said; and, though he tried to speak lightly, there was a perceptible quiver in his voice.
“They are very beautiful,” said the squire. “Take care of them, my dear. I am sure they are extremely valuable, although Mr. Faradeane treats them so cavalierly.”
Olivia put up her hands to unfasten the necklet, but could not do so.
“Let me try,” said Bradstone. “They like you so well that they don’t care about parting from you. I can’t do it! Where’s the spring, Faradeane, do you know? Just come and see, will you?”
Faradeane came slowly forward, and as he did so Olivia put up her hands again.
“I—I think I can do it,” she said, with a strange tremor in her voice.