"I should love to have some nice relations," she said. "All mine are perfectly horrid."
"And all mine," observed Tony, "are horribly perfect. I don't know which is the more trying of the two."
There was a moment's pause, and then, as if a sudden thought had struck her, Isabel reached across to the adjoining chair, and unhooked the little silver chain-bag which she had brought in with her.
"Oh," she said, "before I forget I wanted to ask you if you would be so kind as to do something for me. I hate bothering you, but you see I don't know any one else, and I'm so ignorant about this kind of thing." She took out a couple of rings and a brooch and pushed them across the table. "It's to sell them," she added. "I—I think they ought to be worth something."
Tony picked up the brooch. It was a beautiful piece of work—a large single and absolutely flawless emerald, delicately set in gold. Without being an expert in such matters he knew enough of precious stones to realize that it was of considerable value.
"I should think this would do to begin with," he said, "unless you are going to be very extravagant. It ought to bring in bread and butter for the rest of your life-time."
Isabel's face lighted up. "Will it really!" she exclaimed. "How lovely. I never thought it would be worth as much as that!"
Tony turned his attention to the rings, which in their way were every bit as good as the brooch. One was the half-hoop of sapphires and diamonds which he had noticed on the previous evening, the other consisted of three very fine rubies, mounted in a curious, old-fashioned setting that seemed to be of Eastern origin.
He examined them both with much interest and then handed them back to Isabel.
"You must keep them," he said. "They are much too beautiful to sell, and besides, there is no need to sell them. The brooch will bring you in quite a lot of money, and you can always get credit from the milkman as long as you wear rubies and diamonds."