"Yes, indeed. I am not the fellow to stick at a trifle when I want to carry my purpose. I bought this the other day and gave ready money for it,--two hundred and fifty pounds,--on purpose to give it to Ayala. In naming the value,--of course you'll do that when you give it her,--you might as well say three hundred guineas. That was the price on the ticket. I saw it myself,--so there won't be any untruth you know." "Am I to give it her?" "That's just what I want. When I talk to her she flares up, and, as likely as not, she'd fling the necklace at my head." "She wouldn't do that, I hope." "It would depend upon how the thing went. When I do talk to her it always seems that nothing I say can be right. Now, if you will give it her you can put in all manner of pretty things." "This itself will be the prettiest thing," said Mrs. Dosett. "That's just what I was thinking. Everybody agrees that diamonds will go further with a girl than anything else. When I told the governor he quite jumped at the idea." "Sir Thomas knows you are giving it?" "Oh, dear, yes. I had to get the rhino from him. I don't go about with two hundred and fifty pounds always in my own pocket." "If he had sent the money to Ayala how much better it would have been," said poor Mrs. Dosett. "I don't think that at all. Who ever heard of making a present to a young lady in money. Ayala is romantic, and that would have been the most unromantic thing out. That would not have done me the least good in the world. It would simply have gone to buy boots and petticoats and such like. A girl would never be brought to think of her lover merely by putting on a pair of boots. When she fastens such a necklace as this round her throat he ought to have a chance. Don't you think so, Aunt Dosett?" "Tom, shall I tell you something?" said the aunt. "What is it, Aunt Dosett?" "I don't believe that you have a chance." "Do you mean that?" he asked, sorrowfully. "I do." "You think that the necklace will do no good?" "Not the least. Of course I will offer it to her if you wish it, because her uncle and I quite approve of you as a husband for Ayala. But I am bound to tell you the truth. I do not think the necklace will do you any good." Then he sat silent for a time, meditating upon his condition. It might be imprudent;--it might be a wrong done to his father to jeopardise the necklace. How could it be if Ayala were to take the necklace and not to take him? "Am I to give it?" she asked. "Yes," said he, bravely, but with a sigh; "give it her all the same." "From you or from Sir Thomas?" "Oh, from me;--from me. If she were told it came from the governor she'd keep it whether or no. I am sure I hope she will keep it," he said, trying to remove the bad impression which his former words might perhaps have left.