Van Aldin smiled.

“Ah! that’s my secret. They had to be bought privately, of course. They are rather well known. See that big stone in the middle? You have heard of it, maybe; that’s the historic ‘Heart of Fire.’ ”

“Heart of Fire!” repeated Mrs. Kettering.

She had taken the stones from the case and was holding them against her breast. The millionaire watched her. He was thinking of the series of women who had worn the jewels. The heartaches, the despairs, the jealousies. “Heart of Fire,” like all famous stones, had left behind it a trail of tragedy and violence. Held in Ruth Kettering’s assured hand, it seemed to lose its potency of evil. With her cool, equable poise, this woman of the western world seemed a negation to tragedy or heartburnings. Ruth returned the stones to their case; then, jumping up, she flung her arms round her father’s neck.