eyes fastened on the box.

"It is for no one else," was the smiling answer. "Shall I open it for
you?"

Mrs. Curtis touched a tiny spring in the white box. It flew open!

There before Madge's wondering gaze, coiled on its dainty silk bed, lay
a string of creamy pearls. They were not large, but each pearl was
perfect, an exquisite bit of jewelry. Mrs. Curtis took the necklace
from its case. She leaned over and clasped it about Madge's slender
throat, saying: "Tom and I talked a long time about what we wished to
give you as a slight remembrance of our appreciation of what you did
for us. At last we decided upon this as being particularly suitable to
you. Then, too, we wished to give you something that came up out of
the sea."

"It is the loveliest necklace in the world," declared Madge happily,
touching the pearls. "It is far too beautiful for me. I shall love it
all my life and never, never part with it. You have been too good to
me, Mrs. Curtis," she added earnestly.

"But think what you did for me," reminded the stately, white-haired
woman.

"That isn't worth remembering. I did only what any one else would have
done if placed in the same circumstances."

"But you saved my son's life, and that is the greatest service you
could possibly render me."