She started, and turned her head away from him.

"Oh, I have quite enough," she said, with a laugh. "You must remember,
Lord Sutcombe, that I am a poor clergyman's fourth daughter, and that I
am not accustomed to much jewellery."

"You are my son's wife, my dear Miriam," he said, with a slight smile.
"And a lady of your position has usually quite a quantity of jewellery.
Personally, I do not attach much importance to the decrees of fashion,
but I suppose that it is as well to comply with them. Has Percy ever by
chance spoken to you of the family diamonds?"

The blood mantled in Miriam's face for a moment; then left it paler than
before.

"No," she replied.

"Ah!" said the Marquess. "Of course, there are some. Indeed, there are a
great many, and some of them are very beautiful, very valuable; in fact,
I do not think I should exaggerate if I were to say that some of the
stones are priceless; not only in a monetary sense, but because of their
size and quality. There are, too, historic associations," he added,
thoughtfully.

There was a pause; Miriam drooped over the piano, touching a note here
and there softly.

"Yes, some of them are historic," resumed the Marquess meditatively.
"There is a necklace which belonged to Madame du Barri, and another
which Queen Elizabeth gave to one of her ladies-in-waiting. An ancestor
of ours was a son of hers. I think the time has arrived when the jewels
should, so to speak, be resurrected; that they should pass into your
possession."