Julia Clifford and Percy came in, walking three yards apart:  Percy had untied the apron strings without Walter’s assistance.

“Ah,” said she, “you two are not like us.  I am ashamed to interrupt you; but they would not let us go down the mine without an order from Mr. Hope.  Really, I think Mr. Hope is king of this country.  Not that we have wasted our time, for he has been quarrelling with me all the way there and back.”

“Oh, Mr. Fitzroy!” said Mary Bartley.

“Miss Bartley,” said Percy, very civilly, “I never q-q-quarrel, I merely dis-distin-guished between right and wrong.  I shall make you the judge.  I gave her a di-dia-mond br-bracelet which came down from my ancestors; she did me the honor to accept it, and she said it should never leave her day nor night.”

“Oh,” cried Julia, “that I never did.  I can not afford to stop my circulation altogether; it’s much too little.”  Then she flew at him suddenly.  “Your ancestors were pigmies.”

Percy drew himself up to his full height, and defied the insinuation.  “They were giants, in chain armor,” said he.

“What,” said Julia, without a moment’s hesitation, “the ladies?  Or was it the knights that wore bracelets?”

Some French writer says, “The tongue of a woman is her sword,” and Percy Fitzroy found it so.  He could no more answer this sudden thrust than he could win the high leap at Lillie Bridge.  He stood quivering as if a polished rapier had really been passed clean through him.

Mary was too kind-hearted to laugh in his face, but she could not help turning her head away and giggling a little.

At last Percy recovered himself enough to say,

“The truth is you have gone and given it to somebody else.”

“Oh, you wicked—­bad-hearted—­you that couldn’t be jealous!”

By this time Percy was himself again, and said, with some reason, that “invectives were not arguments.  Produce the bracelet.”

“And so I can,” said Julia, stoutly.  “Give me time.”

“Oh,” said Percy, “if it’s a mere question of time, there is no more to be said.  You’ll find the bracelet in time, and in time I shall feel once more that confidence in you which induced me to confide to you as to another self that precious family relic, which I value more than any other material object in the world.”  Then Percy, whose character seemed to have changed, retired with stiff dignity and an air of indomitable resolution.

Neither Julia nor Mary had ever seen him like that before.  Julia was unaffectedly distressed.

“Oh, Mary, why did I ever lend it to you?”

Now Mary knew very well where the bracelet was, but she was ashamed to say; she stammered and said, “You know, dear, it is too small, much too small, and my arm is bigger than yours.”

“There!” said Julia; “you have broken the clasp!”

Mary colored up to the eyes at her own disingenuousness, and said, hastily, “But I’ll have it mended directly; I’ll return it to-morrow at the latest.”