They suited her well, and Miss Oliver at once went and obtained a small mirror so that her ladyship should see the effect for herself. Jean was not vain. She only liked to wear jewels because it pleased her husband. In the great safe in her dressing-room was stored an array of beautiful jewels--the Bracondale heirlooms. Some of the diamonds had been reset, and she wore them at various official functions. But she prized only those which her husband had given to her. In the Bracondale family jewels she took but little interest. After all she was essentially modern and up-to-date. Her birth, her youthful experience, the bitterness of her first marriage, and her curious adventures had all combined to render her shrewd and far-seeing. She had kept abreast of the times, and that being so, she could, by her knowledge, often further her husband's interests. It being her birthday, she invited Miss Oliver to take her coffee with them, and they were a merry quartette when they sat down to chat in the bright morning sunshine. The scene was typically English--the long sweep of the park, the great elms dotted here and there, and behind the dark belt of firs the blue Channel sparkling in the morning sun. "I think in the second week of September I may be able to get away from Downing Street," Bracondale said, as he sipped his cup of black coffee, for he seldom took anything else until his lunch, served at noon. Morning was the best time for brain work, he always declared, and mental work upon an empty stomach was always best. "Shall we go to Saint Addresse?" suggested Jean. "The sea-bathing is always beneficial to Enid, and, as you know, the villa, though small, is awfully comfortable." "We will go just where you like, dearest. I leave it for you to arrange," was his reply. "I love the villa," she replied, "and Enid does, too." "Very well, let us go," he said. "I'll make arrangements for us to leave in the second week in September." Enid was delighted, and clapped her tiny hands with glee when Miss Oliver told her of her mother's decision, and then the governess took the child for a stroll around the rosery while husband and wife sat together chatting. Bracondale sat with his wife's hand in his, looking into her eyes, and repeating his good wishes for many a happy return of that anniversary. "I hope you are happy, Jean," he said at last. "I am trying to make you so." "I am very happy--happier now than I have ever been before in all my life," she answered, looking affectionately into his face. "But do you know that sometimes," she added, slowly, in an altered voice, "sometimes I fear that this peace is too great, too sweet to last always. I am dreading lest something might occur to wreck this great happiness of mine." He looked at her in surprise. "Why do you dread that?" he asked. "Because happiness is, alas! never lasting." "Only ours."