“Tell your maid to get it,” he said. “The fact is, I bought that necklace for Lola Corbett, but we had a row, or rather she annoyed me, and so I gave it to you. All the same, she’s always looked upon the article as hers, and it has rankled in her mind, and she is so cracked about jewellery, and has ragged and nagged so much about this damned necklace, that I feel bound to give it to her. You’ll let me have it, won’t you, Letty?” His manner was almost persuasive. He was saying to himself that if he had made a similar proposition to Lola she would have flown into a rage, that would have scared even him; but all his wife said was: “Oh, of course! Desirée shall get it out at once, and I will send it to your room.” “That’s a good little girl,” he remarked approvingly. (To himself, ‘She hadn’t the spirit of a mouse! He would really have enjoyed a little bit of a scrap!’) “All right,” he continued, “I will get you another, and just as good, the very next time I am in Paris.” “No, no, Hugo,” she protested. “I really have more diamonds and things than I can wear. But there is something else--I--I--I wish you would give me.” Blagdon, who was half-way to the door, halted. “What’s that?” he demanded, turning sharply round. “A little--a little----” She was about to say ‘love,’ but, with an effort, faltered the word “affection.” “What _rot_!” he exclaimed, and looking her over from head to foot, with a derisive laugh, he went out of the room. CHAPTER XVII The expected heir, for whom conspicuous preparations had been made--bonfires laid ready for the torch, name and sponsors solemnly selected--turned out to be a girl. This was a severe and unconcealed disappointment to Blagdon, and he allowed his wife to feel the full brunt of his indignation, and displeasure. The estate and all the property was strictly entailed, and, after Hugo, it passed to a distant cousin (naturally detested), a man who farmed a small sheep ranch in New Zealand, and was reported to be barely able to write his name. Old Mrs. Blagdon who had come to Sharsley for the auspicious event, dissembled her dissatisfaction with well-bred dignity, and took a certain amount of notice of the unwelcome infant (her namesake), a fair little waxen creature, adored by her mother from the moment she was laid in her arms. The great bonfires remained unlit, the charitable doles were withheld, the grand dinner to the tenantry was cancelled; and Blagdon, like a sulky schoolboy, left home to be consoled by his usual associates. * * * * *