"I threatened you, Lady Prudence!" cried Aarons, in a horrified tone. "Never, never! Besides, your debts to me are amply secured, and my confidence in your prospects is so great that I came to-day expressly," he drew a morocco case from his breast-pocket, "to restore the necklace you left in my care. Your court toilets must need diamonds to set them off, though _you_ do not, and it is a pity to keep this hidden any longer in my strong-box, where there are many—and still finer ones, waiting to adorn the loveliest of her sex." As he spoke, he opened the case and displayed a necklace of fine diamonds, Prue’s wedding-gift from her father-in-law, the Earl of Overbridge. At this sight, her eyes sparkled more brightly than the gems, and her hand involuntarily stretched out toward the glittering thing. Aarons watched her with a sardonic smile, in which triumph and admiration contended with his innate contempt for feminine weakness, and thrusting the casket into her hands, said, in a voice far less harsh than usual, "It is yours. Only let me have the pleasure of seeing you wear it." The softening of his tone roused Prue with a sort of shock. The scorn and repulsion with which she had listened to Aarons’ first declaration revived, made sharper by an unfamiliar touch of shame, and she withdrew her hand as though the gift had stung her. Then, swift as thought, a bright glow and sparkle sprang into her face, and she darted from the room, leaving Aarons transfixed with amazement. He was still in the same position—leaning forward with the open jewel-case in his outstretched hand—when she fluttered back, radiant and breathless, and dropped into her seat behind the table with a laugh of glee. "Pardon my discourtesy, my good Mr. Aarons," she cried. "You took me somewhat by surprise; I was not prepared for so much forethought. Tell me, was it not two hundred guineas you lent me upon that necklace?" [Illustration: "——Was it not two hundred guineas?"] "Yes—but—" began the usurer. "One moment," Prue quickly interposed: "I am hopelessly stupid about such matters, but even I know that there is interest to pay for that loan. Please tell me how much? Another hundred pounds, perhaps, or—" "I don’t know how much," Aarons interrupted bruskly. "This is not a matter of loan and interest." "Oh! pardon me, I think it is," said Prue, drawing up her slender neck with a vast access of dignity. "I am charmed to have my diamonds once more—God he knows for how long!" and she took the jewel-case from Aarons’ unresisting hand. "And here, my good sir, are three hundred pounds; if I am still in your debt, let me know and I will pay you some other day." She placed three of Robin’s bank-notes before him, and lifting the necklace from its velvet bed clasped it about her throat. "There!" she cried, facing Aarons with a bewitching smile. "Now you can have your wish: I have put it on so that you can see me wear it!"