'But, you stupid, undutiful boy, don't you see that you could leave the bank--you need never do anything any more--we should all live rich and happy somewhere in the country, if we could only sell those jewels! And you won't do that one little thing!' 'Well,' said Dick, 'I'll think over it. I'll see what I can do.' And his mother knew that it was perfectly useless to urge him any further: for, in some things, Dick was as obstinate as a mule, and, in others, far too easy-going and careless ever to succeed in life. He had promised to think over it, however, and she had to be contented with that. On the evening following this conversation cousin Dick entered the sitting-room the moment after his return from the City, and found his mother to all appearances alone. 'What a dear sweet little guileless angel cousin Priscilla is, to be sure!' was his first remark. 'Then you _have_ sold some of the stones!' cried Aunt Margarine. 'Sit down, like a good boy, and tell me all about it.' 'Well,' said Dick, 'I took the finest diamonds and rubies and pearls that escaped from that saintlike child last night in the course of some extremely disparaging comments on my character and pursuits--I took those jewels to Faycett and Rosewater's in New Bond Street--you know the shop, on the right-hand side as you go up----' 'Oh, go on, Dick; go on--never mind _where_ it is--how much did you get for them?' 'I'm coming to that; keep cool, dear mamma. Well, I went in, and I saw the manager, and I said: "I want you to make these up into a horse-shoe scarf-pin for me."' 'You said that! You never tried to sell one? Oh, Dick, you are too provoking!' 'Hold on, mater; I haven't done yet. So the manager--a very gentlemanly person, rather thin on the top of the head--not that that affects his business capacities; for, after all----' 'Dick, do you want to drive me frantic!' 'I can't conceive any domestic occurrence which would be more distressing or generally inconvenient, mother dear. You do interrupt a fellow so! I forgot where I was now--oh, the manager, ah yes! Well, the manager said, "We shall be very happy to have the stones made in any design you may select"--jewellery, by the way, seems to exercise a most refining influence upon the manners: this man had the deportment of a duke--"you may select," he said; "but of course I need not tell you that none of these stones are genuine."' 'Not genuine!' cried Aunt Margarine excitedly. 'They must be--he was lying!'