As her wedding gifts had been entirely in the form of clothes--the donors doubtless surmising that the wife of a rich man's son would have other gifts in abundance--there remained only the trinkets George and George's parents had given her.

All through luncheon, while Mrs.Fowler, with an assumed frivolity which Gabriella found more than usually depressing, rippled on over the warmed-over salmon, the girl mentally arranged and sorted in their cases a diamond brooch, an amethyst necklace, a bracelet set with pearls, and a topaz heart she occasionally wore on a gold chain, which she valued because it had belonged to her grandmother.

Once she stopped, and lifting her hand, looked appraisingly at her engagement ring for an instant, while Mrs.
Fowler, observing her long gaze, remarked caressingly: "I always thought it an unusually pretty stone, my dear.

George knows a good deal about stones." Then, as if inspired by an impulse, she added quickly: "Wasn't George upstairs before lunch?
I thought I heard his voice." "Yes, but he said he had an engagement at the club." "I wonder if he knows I have asked the Capertons to dinner to-night?
You know I got Florrie's card the other day.

She is here on her wedding journey, but even then she doesn't like to be quiet, for she is her mother all over again.