The evening was spent at a theatre, and by eleven o'clock next morning both ladies had started forth on one of the shopping expeditions, which seemed to constitute Mrs Moffatt's chief pleasure in life. They drove first of all to the jeweller's, where Cornelia was shown the emerald necklace, a wonderful collection of stones, in an antique setting, with which she herself promptly fell in love. The price was excessive, even for her own deep purse, and she concluded that Mr Moffatt's means must be even larger than she had imagined, since his wife seriously contemplated such a purchase. There was a good deal of bargaining, half-serious, half-joking, between Mrs Moffatt and the very imposing- looking personage behind the counter, but fortified by the advent of another possible purchaser, the latter steadily refused to reduce his price, and once again Mrs Moffatt retired discomfited from the struggle. "I know just how it will be," she cried, "I'll have to give it up, and then you'll step in, and carry it off before my eyes! But you've got to wait a bit, till I see what I can do with Silas. I'm not going to give up yet awhile." Cornelia laughed easily. "Oh, I'll play fair. If you give up the idea, I daresay Poppar'd let me have it. He says emeralds suit me better than any other stones; but I shan't break my heart, one way or the other." ... Then addressing the shopman: "Have you got anything really new and tasty for little presents? I might as well look round while I'm here." Then followed a delightful hour, from the shopkeeper's point of view, at least, when Cornelia examined the contents of tray after tray, and selected "little presents" to the value of a cool hundred pounds: an old pearl and enamel solitaire stud for her father; a hat-pin composed of a big turquoise, and a selection of dainty, jewelled brooches and bangles for special girl friends. "I'll give you the addresses, and you'd better mail them from here. I don't know how you fix up things to travel safely from this side, but you can do all that's necessary. I'll give you a cheque and you needn't send them out till you see that it's all right. I'm a stranger to you, and can't expect you to trust me right away, but you'll find the money's there!" "Well, I should think your name's good enough! No one need fear trusting your father's daughter for a few hundred dollars!" Mrs Moffatt protested, while the shopman waxed eloquent in protestation. Cornelia continued to write addresses on the various boxes, without troubling to answer, for the assiduous manner in which her friend advertised her parentage was already beginning to jar. First to the hotel officials; then to casual acquaintances during the evening, and now to this tradesman! It was a disagreeable change from Norton, where the subject of money was never mentioned, and no one seemed to care whether you were rich or poor.