“Perhaps their husbands’ cleverness overpowers them?” suggested Celia, thoughtfully; “or perhaps a clever man finds that a homely kind of wife is more conducive to domestic happiness than one greatly gifted with intellectual powers. Even the cleverest men are human, and they appreciate home comforts.” “That may be so,” agreed Lady Marjorie. “Anyway, Guy Haviland seems happy enough. I want you to keep in touch with him, Celia. His acquaintance is well worth cultivating.” CHAPTER X A GOLD NUGGET AND A DIAMOND RING When Celia went home for the Christmas holidays, it was as the betrothed of David Salmon. David had proposed to her one evening when they were at Mrs. Rosen’s house in Fitzjohn’s Avenue, and she had accepted him, on condition that he should not even introduce the subject of marriage to her for at least three years. It was altogether a conditional engagement on her part. She was not sure if she really loved him, and she was not at all anxious to be engaged; but David seemed so bent on having his own way, that for the sake of peace she acceded to his request. The first thing he did was to cast about for a diamond ring for his _fiancée_. He would have to beg, borrow, or steal one from somewhere. There were plenty in the jewellers’ shops, and he looked at them with longing eyes, but as he had no cash wherewith to purchase one, he was obliged to be content with looking only. Presently, however, a bright idea struck him. Hailing a hansom, he betook himself to the aristocratic neighbourhood of Shoreditch, where there resided, at the sign of three balls, an old man who happened to be a second cousin of his father’s. Ikey Benjamin was scarcely a relative to be proud of, and on most occasions David conveniently forgot the relationship; but he chose to remember it now. The dingy little shop was filled with a conglomeration of old bric-a-brac, violins, books and jewellery, both antique and modern. Keeping the hansom waiting at the kerb, Salmon entered, and tendering the grubby little pawnbroker a familiar greeting, inquired politely after the health of his wife and family. Ikey Benjamin glanced at him suspiciously, and answered with short grunts. He was quite certain that the young swell had not driven all the way from Maida Vale to ask after Mrs. Ikey and all the tribe of Benjamin. David produced his silver cigar-case, and proffered a choice Havana. The old man accepted it, sniffed at it approvingly, and finally clipped and lit it, whilst his face relaxed a little of its sternness. “Tings looking up mit you, eh?” he queried, as his narrow eyes took in the fashionable cut of Salmon’s frock coat. “Done well in Sout’ Africa, I suppose, eh?” “No, I lost every stiver I possessed,” answered David, as he made a casual survey of all the stock that the shop contained. “But I hope that I’m going to do well now. I’ve just got engaged to the daughter of one of the richest men at the Cape. You have heard of Bernie Franks, haven’t you, Ikey?”