“And so would I, mamma,” said Monica.
“And gracious goodness knows,” cried Agatha, “so would I.”
“And you mean it? Well, I begin to be proud of you,” said Basil. “And it isn’t friendship made easy? Oh no; certainly not. Capital little girls you are! Let us have a good stare at these sons of oysters,” and Basil took the pearls from his sisters; whilst Mrs. Jericho with important looks moved silently from the room. “I suppose”—and Basil waved the jewels in the light—“I suppose they’re warranted real natives?”
“What do you mean, Basil?” cried Monica.
“Beautiful jewels,” and Basil still admired the pearls. “But what a jewel is true friendship, eh? Nothing like that jewel for the time-piece of life to go upon; is there, Sir Arthur?”
“Certainly not,” answered the baronet. “When I say certainly not, I mean—it’s quite a matter of opinion.”
“How very handsome you’ll look with these upon you! ’Pon my word, girls, they’ll think you’re mermaids come to court; come, with the family pearls from the Indian seas. They will,” cried Basil, earnestly. “You’ll look beautiful with them; but, if you’ll take my advice, much more lovely without ’em.”
“Without ’em! Go to court without jewels! Foolish boy! What would you have us wear?” asked Monica.
“Friendship, my pretty one. It is such a jewel, and I’ll tell you how you may best display it.”
Whilst Basil describes to impatient cars a very uninteresting operation, we will follow Mrs. Jericho. She has just entered Mr. Jericho’s study. “My dear,” she observes, “you must let me have some money.”