The word came with no uncertain emphasis. Van Aldin seemed satisfied. He patted his daughter on the shoulder.

“It will be all right, little girl. Don’t you worry any. Now let’s forget about all this. I have brought you a present from Paris.”

“For me? Something very nice?”

“I hope you’ll think so,” said Van Aldin, smiling.

He took the parcel from his coat pocket and handed it to her. She unwrapped it eagerly, and snapped open the case. A long-drawn “Oh!” came from her lips. Ruth Kettering loved jewels⁠—always had done so.

“Dad, how⁠—how wonderful!”

“Rather in a class by themselves, aren’t they?” said the millionaire with satisfaction. “You like them, eh?”

“Like them? Dad, they’re unique. How did you get hold of them?”