She would have to keep them in a safe place,--a vault, no doubt.

Nearly every matron of her acquaintance made a great deal of the fact that she had to buy a safe in which to store her treasures.

There was something agreeable--subtly agreeable--in owning jewels that would have to be kept in one of those staunch, opulent looking safes.

She experienced a thrill of satisfaction by describing herself in advance, as one of the women with pearls.

And there was additional gratification in the knowledge that she could hardly be called a matron in the strict sense of the word.