g Clo's errand. If only, now, she could have five minutes'
grace!

"You ought to know I never guess anything right!" she laughed. "It's not
quite four. Show me the wonderful thing just as the clock strikes!"

Roger pulled out his watch. "All right, baby!" he teased her. "You've
got just three minutes and a half. Perhaps you think a woman needs that
time to take off her hat; I'll show you you're wrong!"

He neatly extracted a hat pin which Beverley had twisted into her veil.
Then off came the hat. Roger led his wife by the hand to the door of his
study. Beverley was in despair. Her one cause for thankfulness lay in
the fact that he had forgotten Clo. If he'd remembered to send down
money, the girl would have been bewildered, and perhaps have come in to
ask for instructions. There was room in Beverley's brain for no other
thought than "How am I to get that parcel and give it to Clo?"

"Shut your eyes," said Roger. "The clock's going to strike four now;
don't open your eyes till it stops."

Beverley obeyed, as in that mood she would have obeyed an order to stand
still and be shot through the heart. "One--two," slowly struck the
grandfather clock in the corner; and she felt something cool and heavy
dropped over her neck. "Three--four!" the clock finished. "Open your
eyes," Roger gave the signal.

"Oh!" cried Beverley, almost aghast. On her delicate gray dress the
double line of pearls glistened like huge drops of dew on a spider-web.
The rope hung down below her waist, and each pearl had a light in its
heart as if it held the ghost of a rainbow. "It can't be true! It's a
dream!" the girl stammered. She loved pearls, and knew that these were
marvels beyond common knowledge. But oh, if they could have come to her
at another time!

She managed, however, to put a world of emotion into one kiss and clasp
of her arms. Her silent anguish was disguised as awe. By this time she
had an inspiration. She felt like the Queen of New York, she said. She
must run to her room for a look in the glass, as there was only a weird
old convex mirror in the study. In just a minute--or maybe two
minutes--she would come back. She could have sobbed out "Thank God!"
when Roger, laughing at her vanity, let her go. This time he did not
follow. He stood examining the purple velvet case with the Queen's crown
and monogram. He had not told Beverley the price he had given for the
pearls. He wondered if she guessed that they had cost a fortune. Why
d