The necklace of pearls, with earrings to match, which Miriam wore this evening, were also of stage parentage, but they looked so much like the real thing, that no one, save an expert, could have told without handling them that they were nothing better than clever shams. The one ring, too, which she wore--a hoop of diamonds--on her somewhat large, but well-shaped hand, was not more genuine than her pearl necklace. It had been bought for a few shillings in the Burlington Arcade; but it flashed famously in the gaslight; and as one cannot well take off a lady's ring in order to examine it, answered its purpose just as well as if it had cost a hundred guineas. But we must not be too hard on Miriam. No doubt she was as fond of a little finery as most of her sisters are at two-and-twenty, but, in the present case, all these sham trinkets had been assumed by her at her father's wish, and "for a certain purpose," as the old man said. At the same time one need not imagine that the wearing of them, although they were counterfeit, was in any way distasteful to Miriam. As she herself would have been one of the first to say, go long as other people accepted her jewellery as real, the end for which it was worn was thoroughly gained. "And how do you like your new home, Miss Byrne?" asked Gerald. "I would much rather it had been at the West End than in the City," answered Miriam. "The rooms I like very much. They are large and old-fashioned, and have seen better days. To live in such rooms makes one feel as if one were somebody of importance--as if one had money in the Bank of England. But the look-out is dreadful. At the back, into that horrid churchyard; while in the front, there is nothing to be seen but a high, blank wall. I am always glad when it is time to draw the curtains and light the gas." "You must get out for a little change and amusement now and then," said Gerald. "It will never do for you to get moped and melancholy through shutting yourself up in this gloomy old house. A visit once a week to a theatre, for instance, or----" "Don't speak of it," interrupted Miriam. "I hope I shall not see the inside of a theatre for a couple of years, at the very least." "Perhaps the opera would suit you better," suggested Gerald, altogether at a loss to know why the theatre should be so emphatically tabooed. "If you are fond of the opera, I think I can manage to get a couple of tickets for you now and then." "Oh, that will be delightful!" exclaimed Miriam, clasping her hands with Oriental fervour. "I have never been to the opera but twice in my life, and I should dearly love to go again." "Then you are fond of music?" asked Gerald.