“Then I won’t ask you to listen to my music,” said Mr. Rayner. “I’m only a fiddler. However, I think I must console myself for this disgusting weather by a--a tune to-night; but I’ll be merciful and shut the doors. My wife and Miss Christie will entertain you, and--let me see, it is half-past seven--at nine o’clock I’ll come and inflict myself upon you again, and we can have a game at backgammon. Do you care for backgammon?” Mr. Maynard having declared that he did, Mr. Rayner asked me if I could go into the drawing-room and hunt out _La Traviata_ and Moore’s “Irish Melodies.” I went obediently, and was on my knees turning over the great piles of music that stood there, when he came in and softly shut the door. Before I knew he was near I felt something passed round my neck and heard the snap of a clasp behind. I put up my hand and sprang to my feet, startled. Mr. Rayner, bright and smiling, drew my hand through his arm and led me to a looking-glass. Flashing and sparkling round my throat was a necklace of red jewels that dazzled me by their beauty. “Don’t I keep my promises? I said I would bring you some garnets. Do they please you?” But they did not at all, after what Laurence had said; the magnificent present filled me with terror. I put up both hands, tore them off, and flung them down with trembling fingers, and then stood, panting with fright at my own daring, wondering what he would do to me. He did nothing. After looking at me for what seemed to me a long time, while I stood trembling, at first proud and then ashamed of myself, without the least sign of displeasure he picked up the necklace, slipped it into his pocket, and said quite gently-- “That is very pretty spirit, but is rather ungrateful, isn’t it? Never mind; you shall make amends for it by and by. Now will you go and help Mrs. Rayner to entertain our lynx-eyed friend? You shall come back and fetch me at nine o’clock. Run along now, my dear.”