Evelyn Clifford.

When these "confections" had been secured, Madame of the black satin and
powdered nose assured Monsieur that his Christmas purchases would be
incomplete without a certain blouse which, to an untutored eye, appeared
to be a combination of sea-foam and rose-leaves. There was a belt, too,
crusted with seed pearls; and a hanging bag to match. Oh, certainly
Monsieur would take these, and anything else which Madame could
conscientiously recommend. She could, and did, recommend several other
things; and no doubt it was a mere coincidence that they happened to be
among the most expensive in the shop. She also won Hugh's gratitude by
being able to produce a coat and a frock in which a little girl of five,
already beautiful, would be more akin to fairyhood than ordinary
childhood, and might become the "exception that would prove the rule" to
an unbelieving Jane.

The cloak was pale blue; and another shop had to be searched for a hat
to be worn with it, but Madame was most kind in directing Monsieur where
to find one. Her sister would serve him, therefore he would be well
served.

On the way, he passed a jeweller's; and exactly the right string of
pearls, and the right "swallow brooch" stared him in the face, in the
window. It was odd, how all the prettiest things in the world, of
whatever description, looked as if they ought to belong to Evelyn and
Rosemary Clifford. There was a gold bag, too; but that was a detail, for
really the principal thing he had called for was a ring with a single
diamond in it--and perhaps--well, yes--that little sapphire band to keep
it on a slender finger.