George Fairfax paused. His first impulse was to lend the poor little woman the money--the veriest trifle, of course, to the lord of Lyvedon. But the next moment another idea presented itself to him. He had the locket lying in the open palm of his hand. It would be so sweet to possess that lock of hair--to wear so dear a token of his mistress. Even those two words, "From Clarissa," had a kind of magic for him. It was a foolish weakness, of course; but then love is made up of such follies. "If you really mean to part with this," he said, "I should be very glad to have it. I would give you more than any pawnbroker--say, twenty instead of ten pounds, for instance--and a new locket for yourself into the bargain. I shouldn't like to deprive you of an ornament you valued without some kind of compensation. I have taken a fancy to the design of the thing, and should really like to have it. What do you say now, Mrs. Austin--shall that be a transaction between you and me, without any reference to your husband, who might be angry with you for having let me into domestic secrets? You can tell him you got the money from the _mont de piete_. Look here, now; let's settle the business at once." He opened his purse, and tumbled the contents out upon the table. Bessie Lovel thought what a blessed state of existence that must be in which people walked this world with all that ready money about them. "There are just four-and-twenty pounds here," he said cheerily; "so we'll say four-and-twenty." He saw that she was yielding. "And would you really give me a locket for myself," she said, almost incredulously, "as well as this money?" "Unquestionably. As good a one as I can find in the Rue de la Paix. This has diamonds, and that shall have diamonds. It's the design, you see," he added persuasively, "that has taken my fancy." "I'm sure you are very generous," Bessie murmured, still hesitating. "Generous! Pshaw, not at all. It's a caprice; and I shall consider myself under an obligation to you if you gratify it." The temptation was irresistible. To obtain the money that was required--more than double the sum her husband had wanted--and to have another locket as well! Never, surely, had there been such a bargain since the famous magician offered new lamps for old ones. Of course, it was only Mr. Fairfax's delicate way of doing them a kindness; his fancy for the locket was merely a benevolent pretence. What could he care for that particular trinket; he who might, so to speak, walk knee-deep in diamonds, if he pleased?