“Oh yes; come now, do.”
“It would be a breach of confidence, and I really cannot give way—no, not on any consideration.”
“You are hard upon me,” said Elbraham. “Oh, by the way, I haven’t forgotten you, Lady Littletown. Would you wear this to oblige me?”
“Oh no, I could not think of taking it, Mr Elbraham really. It looks so like a bribe, too.”
“No, no, that it don’t,” said the financier. “I wouldn’t give it to you at first, for fear your ladyship should think I meant it in that way; but now it is all settled, and you have been so kind to me, I thought perhaps you would not mind accepting that little marquise ring just as a remembrance of, etcetera, etcetera—you know.”
“Well, if you put it like that,” said Lady Littletown, “I suppose I must take it, and wear it as you say. But it is too good, Elbraham—it is, really. What a lovely opal!”
“Yes, ’tis a good one, isn’t it?”
“Charming! And what regular diamonds!”
“I thought you’d like it,” chuckled Elbraham; and then, to himself, “They’re all alike.”
“Do you know, Elbraham,” said her ladyship, holding the ring up to the light for him to see, as she fitted it upon her finger over her glove—“lovely, isn’t it?—do you know, Elbraham, that I was going to ask you to do me a kindness?”