be let out by a back way after he had received the reward would work very satisfactorily, apart from the indignity of such a proceeding. But as he walked to Belgrave Square there was one glorious vision that for a moment tempted him. If only—but in view of the fact that all his available money, to say nothing of the other articles, was sunk in the venture, it was a very formidable "if only"—if only he was in a position to hand over the jewel to the Lady Irene or the Lady Gladys and lightly brush away the suggestion of a reward, begging her to treat the incident as the willing service of a gentleman to a lady, to what might it not lead? A graceful letter of thanks at the very least—permission to call?—an invitation to lunch? The possibilities were more dazzling than the glitter of the marquise ring when flashed in the sunlight; but, the empty purse, the empty coming week. That vision had to fade.
The earl was at home and a footman took the proffered card, but Mr. Hink did not like his manner. He did not like the way he looked at him, he did not like the way he looked at the card, less still did he like the way he told him to wait in the hall, and when he returned and asked Mr. Hink's exact business, that gentleman positively disliked him.
"Have the goodness to inform his lordship," he replied with becoming haughtiness, "that I have called in connection with his advertisement in the Morning Post, and that I must hand over the ring to him personally."
This had the desired effect, and it is to be placed on record that the ring gained for Mr. Hink the happiness of seeing and conversing with the Right Hon. the Earl of Saxmundham for at least five minutes, although the expression of felicity can only be accepted in a courtesy sense. His lordship came into the hall and invited Mr. Hink to follow him into his study. Furthermore, to Mr.
