that the stones were genuine.

Mrs. Bently unhesitatingly removed one of the crescent ornaments from her
ear and laid it in his hand.

He examined it critically and was still confident that it was really
composed of precious gems. He believed that if she had had them made to
order to replace the stolen ones, either the jeweler had been guilty of
a wretched blunder, or else some friend had interposed to replace the
jewels which she so regretted.

"I am sure there is some mistake. I am confident that these are real
diamonds and very valuable," he asserted, positively.

"Oh, no, they are _not_," she repeated, with grave assurance.

Then she naïvely added, and with a little ripple of laughter:

"I am glad to know that they are so good an imitation as to deceive you.
There is some comfort in that, although it is not pleasant to have to
acknowledge the sham."

Still her companion was not convinced. Surely no paste jewels ever
emitted such a brilliant white light as those which lay upon his palm,
catching and reflecting the various colors about them in such dazzling
gleams.

"Would you be willing to go with me to some reliable jeweler and have
them tested?" he asked.