So they went their separate ways, and two hours later Mrs. Whittaker might have been seen deliberately pacing up the arcade in which was situated the shop at which Maudie’s earrings had been bought. A smooth-spoken young gentleman came forward to receive her. Regina explained her pleasure; she wanted earrings. No, not for the bride; for the young lady who was with her when she bought the bride’s earrings. Solitaire earrings? Yes. Turquoise were very nice, but she fancied that Miss Whittaker did not care much about turquoise. Did she fancy pink coral? Yes, that was a happy idea, so suitable for a young lady. So Regina was shown various solitaire earrings in that most delicate and girlish substance. But even then she was not satisfied, and the pink coral earrings were set in diamonds. No, it was not the expense; that was not the question, but Mrs. Whittaker thought that not even tiny diamonds should find a place in the jewel-box of a very young girl.
“Pink coral without—?”
“Just a few sparks, madam,” said the gentleman on the other side of the counter, “they will be a little—well, a little insignificant—as earrings.”
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Whittaker admitted, “you might let me see the turquoise, I could have those without diamonds.”
“Yes, or pearls. Solitaire pearls are quite young ladies’ jewelry.”
“And are they very expensive?” asked Regina.
“Oh no, madam. Let me show you the pearls.”
So another tray was handed out, and yet another tray; one containing all manner of turquoise studs for the ears, and the other showing an assortment of pearl earrings, from modest ones at five guineas a pair to some which were far beyond Regina’s means or Julia’s necessities. Eventually a pair of pearl solitaires were chosen and paid for.
“Yes, I shall take them with me,” said Regina, opening her smart black and gold wrist bag in order that the little jewel-case might be comfortably nested in company with her small purse and her pocket-handkerchief.
“I hope, madam,” said the shopman, “that you liked Mr. Whittaker’s last present to you.”