"Not at all. It would amuse me. I have some threads I can pick up still--in Bond Street. Let me advise you to concentrate on that _riviere_. If you really feel inclined to trust me, I will take it to a man I know; he will show it to--" he named a famous firm. "In a few days--well, give me a week--and I undertake to bring you proposals. If you accept them, I will collect the money for you at once--or I will return you the necklace, if you don't." Delia clasped her hands. "A week! You think it might all be finished in a week?" "Certainly--thereabouts. These things--" he touched the diamonds--"are practically money." Delia sat ruminating, with a bright excited face. Then a serious expression returned. She looked up. "Mr. Lathrop, this ought to be a matter of business between us--if you do me so great a service?" "You mean I ought to take a commission?" he said, calmly. "I shall do nothing of the kind." "It is more than I ought to accept!" she cried. "Let your kindness--include what I wish." He shook his fair hair impatiently. "Why should you take away all my pleasure in the little adventure?" She looked embarrassed. He went on-- "Besides we are comrades--we have stood together in the fight. I expect this is for the Cause! If so I ought to be angry that you even suggested it!" "Don't be angry!" she said gravely. "I meant nothing unkind. Well, I thank you very much--and there are the diamonds." She gave him the case, with a quiet deliberate movement, as if to emphasize her trust in him. The simplicity with which it was done pricked him uncomfortably. "I'm no thief!--" he thought angrily. "She's safe enough with me. All the same, if she knew--she wouldn't speak to me--she wouldn't admit me into her house. She doesn't know--and I am a cad!" "You can't the least understand what it means to be allowed to do you a service!" he said, with emotion. But the tone evidently displeased her. She once more formally thanked him; then sprang up and began to put the cases on the sofa together. As she did so, steps on the gravel outside were heard through the low casement window. Delia turned with a start, and saw Mark Winnington approaching the front door. "Don't say anything _please_!" she said urgently. "This has nothing to do with my guardian." And opening the door of a lacquer cabinet, she hurriedly packed the jewelry inside with all the speed she could. Her flushed cheek shewed her humiliated by the action. * * * * * Winnington stood in the doorway, silent and waiting. After a hasty greeting to the new-comer, Delia was nervously bidding Lathrop good-bye. "In a week!" he said, under his breath, as she gave him her hand. "A week!" she repeated, evidently impatient for him to be gone. He exchanged a curt bow with Winnington, and the door closed on him.