must do yours."

"Oh! that's all right; Bellamy shall have the agency and two hundred a
year with it, and, to show you that I have not forgotten you, perhaps
you will accept this in memorial of our joint achievement;" and he
drew from his pocket and opened a case containing a superb set of
sapphires.

Mrs. Bellamy had all a beautiful woman's love for jewels, and
especially adored sapphires.

"Oh!" she said, clasping her hands, "thank you, George; they are
perfectly lovely!"

"Perhaps," he replied, politely; "but not half so lovely as their
wearer. I wonder," he added, with a little laugh, "what the old boy
would say, if he could know that a thousand pounds of his personalty
had gone by anticipation to buy a necklace for Anne Bellamy."

To this remark she made no reply, being apparently absorbed in her own
thoughts. At last she spoke.

"I don't want to seem ungracious, George, but these"--and she touched
the jewels--"were not the reward I expected: I want the letters you
promised me back."

"My dear Anne, you are under a mistake, I never promised you the
letters; I said that, under the circumstances, I might possibly
restore them--a very different thing from promising."