Not even to Owen was it whispered that the lace was a wonderfully good imitation, or that the diamonds, instead of being of the first water, were first-rate paste; and no one suspected the deception.

The great millionnaire, Howel Jenkins, could well afford to give his pretty wife the real jewels and lace, and had the credit of so doing; and as no one, save himself and the jeweller, knew that they were false, he thought himself a very clever fellow for gaining the reputation of unbounded liberality upon very small means.

Be it said, however, that his own studs, pin and ring, were real.
The French maid had eclipsed herself in Netta's toilet, and Owen felt that if she were not his sister, he must have fallen in love with her himself.

The black roguish eyes sparkled like the brilliants she wore, and the complexion was scarcely rivalled by the roses she had in her bouquet.
Howel looked really proud of her, and it is not surprising that he felt greatly elevated as he took the reins from the coachman and drove off in his fine new carriage, drawn by capital horses, and attended by liveried servants.
His last whisper to Netta, before they entered Mr Rice Rice's drawing-room was, 'Keep up your consequence, and don't say, "Yes, indeed!" every minute.' He was determined to keep up his own consequence, and began at once by patronising everybody present.

There were some of the county gentry who had demurred as to calling on the old miser's son, and who were astonished at the kind of tone he assumed.