Peg said naught of these trinkets, whether to the General or to me, nor did she show them. But since they came in from New York, employing for their safety certain armed guardians of express, the thing could be called no secret. Moreover, Eaton himself would probably be the last to smother the story of these chains and bracelets and brooches and coronets and flashing whatnot, since for what else did he buy them save self-love and to deck Peg out as one decks out a horse on gala days. That man never loved Peg; it was a mark of sentiment beyond him. He had a pride of her as of a gem or a picture, and wore her beauty as one wears a decoration. But he no more knew Peg, no more loved Peg, than cud-cattle know and love the stars above their stolid heads. Her praise would ring sweet to his ear, yes; her loveliness and the bright glory of her eyes would lighten his face. Also, the moon will light you and shine again on the face of that chance-hollowed mud-hole which the rains have filled and the swine enjoyed. It is but truth to say that my resentment of these jewels to Peg gave me a pause of uneasiness. It was not the little fact of their existence which bayed me; it was not that I went pricked as though by nettles because of these gewgaws; that was not it. But why should I be pricked at all? Other folk would bring diamonds to their wives or sweethearts, and you meet none who owned to less excitement or a colder interest thereover than myself. Why, then, should these stir my pulse and set my anger to a trot? It were indeed a thing most passing strange, and one whereof I was bound to find the bottom if I called myself an honest man. The question of my anger for Peg's jewels hung about me like lead, I tell you; for to myself I made free confession of that wrath and would hide nothing of it from my conscience. I was stout to drag myself to the bar, and to sit in trial over my own heart. Was it love of Peg to move me? The General had told me how I had been swept away in love for her from the first; but that was his jest and the bantering humor of him at the time. Was I in love with Peg? And if not, then wherefore fly to arms for that Eaton would hang the common gifts of man to wife about her charms and strive for her delight? That was the question I held before my soul's eyes and shook it for an answer.