The next day, true to his word, Rowton took Nancy to the shops. They went to the Bon Marché, and to many other places where finery the most fascinating, dresses the most _bizarre_, articles of toilet the most _chic_ in the world, were to be found. Rowton consulted one of the shopwomen whose taste was supposed to be absolute: she brought out one costume after another and fitted them on Nancy, while her husband looked on and criticised and admired. Morning dresses, afternoon dresses, tea gowns, evening dresses, were bought in variety and abundance. With a mere nod of his head Rowton would signify to the attendant that such a thing was to be sent to Mrs. Rowton to the Grand Hotel; he never even enquired the price. “You want shoes and dainty stockings and handkerchiefs and ribbons, and feathers and flowers,” he said, just laying his hand for an instant on Nancy’s shoulder. “Oh, I know how women ought to be dressed.” “See here,” he said to the attendant, “fit Mrs. Rowton with all that is necessary. Let her have some dozen of this, and of this, and this—” he indicated costly things with his hand. “Now then, Nancy, we will go to the millinery department.” Nancy found herself furnished with small velvet caps, with fascinating toques, with hats adorned with great plumes of ostrich feathers, which made her look, Rowton said, with eyes of passionate love, as if she had just stepped out of a Gainsborough picture. The morning passed in a perfect whirl, and when finally the pair returned to the hotel for lunch, Nancy said frankly that she felt as if she had been going about all the morning with a fairy godmother. “Ah! you will have a good deal more of that sensation,” replied her husband. “Hurry with your lunch, now, for afterwards we must go to the Palais Royal to look at trinkets.” “Trinkets?” she said; “you don’t mean jewels?” “I mean a few rings and necklaces, and ornaments for your hair,” he said. “I have taken a box at the opera to-night and you shall look—ah! I’ll not be the only one to look at you to-night, Nancy mine; no woman will look fairer, more divine than my little girl.” The trinkets were bought and Nancy’s slender fingers were laden with sparkling rings. A necklace consisting of a single row of magnificent pearls was secured to encircle her dainty throat. “Not that these are much,” said Rowton; “I have diamonds which you shall wear. They are too valuable to take away from home. We will have a house in town next season, Nance, and you shall wear them then; I won’t show them to you until then. Pearls suit you best however, you are so maidenly, so delicate, so youthful. Heavens! to think that one like you should belong to one like me. My darling, my treasure, what have I done that Providence should be so good to me?” “And what have I done to deserve such a husband?” she answered. “Do not say that,” he said, his tone completely changing; “you do not really know me.”