amethysts
for the purpose. The chosen pair were thick stones turning the scale at
ten carats, and I paid for them per carat. In those days even the best
amethysts were sold at so much per gramme, but the astute dealer saw
carat-values in my eye and quoted me per carat, which meant, according
to the method of calculating price in the gem trade, that I probably
paid five times the real value of the stones. I had to do without meat
for two months to pay for my fancy. Some of my contemporaries reached
somewhat the same result by backing a horse or a woman, but I had my
own way of being young. Worse, however, was to follow.
My
principal employed one of the best goldsmiths in Paris. He was an
artist at his craft, and his charges accorded with his skill. I
consulted this man at a time when my principal was again conveniently
out of the office, and not only did he admire the two stones to the top
of his bent, but promised to do me proud over them. On the spot, with
the enthusiasm of talent, he sketched a lovely design for a pair of
sleeve-links. He said it would do us both credit, him the artist and
me—h'm—the patron.
He
would not, of course, dream of using anything less than eighteen-carat
gold. Cost? Well, naturally there would be the cost of the gold, and
gold was gold, n'est ce pas? And there would be the cost of his
time, but there, naturally, he could not be pressed to name a definite
number of hours. "Leave it to me," he said with a kindly smile. "I
shall treat you en ami"
Well, you know how it is. Beware of the man who gives you special terms because you are a friend. I handed
