"Oh yes. Otherwise, they would not, to us, be worth so many pence."
"Many of them are new within twelve months," urged Selina. "Altogether, they cost more than five hundred pounds."
"To buy. But they are not worth much to pledge. The fashion of these ornaments changes with every season: and that, for one thing, diminishes their value."
"What could you lend me on them?"
"One hundred pounds."
"Absurd!" returned Mrs. Dalrymple, her cheeks flushing. "Why, that one set of amethysts alone cost more. I could not let them go for that. One hundred would be of no use to me."
"Madam, it is entirely at your option, and I assure you I do not press it," he answered, with respectful courtesy. "We care little about taking these things in; so many are brought to us now, that our sales are glutted with them."
"You will not be called upon to sell these. I shall redeem them."
The jeweller did not answer. He could have told her that never an article, from a service of gold plate to a pair of boy's boots, was pledged to him yet, but it was quite sure to be redeemed—in intention.
"Are you aware that a great many ladies, even of high degree, now wear false jewellery?" he resumed.