“How much that adds to their value!” said Lucy, in a low voice, but in her warm, sincere manner.
“That was getting them cheap, was it not, Miss Wallingford?” inquired Emily, with an emphasis I disliked.
“Very; though I agree with Lucy, it makes them so much the more valuable.”
“If Miss Merton will forget my charge of treason, and condescend to put on the necklace, you will all see it to much greater advantage than at present. If a fine necklace embellishes a fine woman, the advantage is quite reciprocal. I have seen my pearls once already on her neck, and know the effect.”
A wish of Grace's aided my application, and Emily placed the ornaments around her throat. The dazzling whiteness of her skin gave a lustre to the pearls that they certainly did not previously possess. One scarcely knew which to admire the most—the ornaments, or their setting.
“How very, very beautiful they are now!” cried Lucy, in generous admiration. “Oh! Miss Merton, pearls should ever be your ornaments.”
“Those pearls, you mean, Lucy,” put in Rupert, who was always extremely liberal with other people's means; “the necklace ought never to be removed.”
“Miss Merton knows their destination,” I said, gallantly, “and the terms of ownership.”
Emily slowly undid the clasp, placed the string before her eyes, and looked at it long and silently.
“And what is this destination, Miles? What these terms of ownership?” my sister asked.