"I have one something like that--or, rather, I did have one."

"Ah! And what did you do with it?"

"I gave it to my maid, Elsa, some days ago."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I was tired of it, and as it was a trifle worn, I had
ceased to care to carry it."

"Is it not a somewhat expensive trinket to turn over to your
maid?"

"No; they are not real gold. At least, I mean mine was not. It
was gilt over silver, and cost only about twelve or fourteen
dollars when new."

"What did you usually carry in it?"

"What every woman carries in such a bag. Handkerchief, some
small change, perhaps a vanity-box, gloves, tickets--whatever
would be needed on an afternoon's calling or shopping tour."

"Miss Lloyd, you have enumerated almost exactly the articles in
this bag."

"Then that is a coincidence, for it is not my bag."

The girl was entirely self-possessed again, and even a little