"Mr. Tavernake shall decide!" she exclaimed, waving her hand to
him. " Mr. Tavernake, there is a difference of opinion about my
earrings. Major Post here,"--she indicated a distinguished-
looking elderly gentleman, with carefully trimmed beard and
moustache, and an eyeglass attached to a thin band of black
ribbon--" Major Post wants me to wear turquoises. I prefer my
pearls. Mr. Crease half agrees with me, but as he never agrees
with any one, on principle, he hates to say so. Mr. Faulkes is
wavering. You shall decide; you, I know, are one of those people
who never waver."
"I should wear the pearls," Tavernake said.
Elizabeth made them a little courtesy.
"You see, my dear friends," she declared, " you have to come to
England, after all, to find a man who knows his own mind and
speaks it without fear. The pearls it shall be."
"It may be decision," Crease drawled, speaking with a slight
American accent, "or it may be gallantry. Mr. Tavernake knew
your own choice."
"The last word, as usual," she sighed. "Now, if you good people
will kindly go on downstairs, I will join you in a few minutes.
Mr. Tavernake is my man of business and I am sure he has
something to say to me."
She dismissed them all pleasantly. As soon as the door was
closed she turned to Tavernake. Her manner seemed to become a
shade less gracious.
"Well?"
"I don't know why I came," Tavernake confessed bluntly. "I was
restless and I wanted to see you.
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