“He pronounced them exceedingly fine, and valued them far above the price which my friend had put upon them, and I told her I would take them.  We returned to our hotel and went directly to my rooms, where my husband drew up a check for a hundred dollars more than the stipulated price, Mrs. Bent giving a receipt for the amount, while she was profuse in her expressions of gratitude for our kindness in relieving her from pecuniary embarrassment.  ‘I shall go immediately to pay my bill,’ she said, looking greatly pleased that she was able to do so, as she handed me the case containing the diamonds, and then she immediately left the room.  Half an hour later she came to me again, her eyes red and swollen from weeping, an open telegram in her hand.  Her mother was dying, and had sent for her, and she was going immediately to her.  She took an affectionate leave of me and soon after left the hotel.  This, your honor, is how I came to have the crescents and”—­taking a folded paper from her elegant purse—­“here is the receipt for the money paid for them.”

The lady took her seat after giving this testimony, while the receipt was examined by the police justice and Mr. Cutler’s counsel.

“I hope the lady has not been a victim to the same cunning scheme that served to defraud the gentleman from Chicago,” he gravely observed.

“You do not mean to imply that my stones are not genuine!” exclaimed Mrs. Vanderheck, with sudden dismay.

“I am not able to say, madame,” his honor courteously replied, “but I should like to have them examined by an expert and proved.”

Mr. Palmer here stated that he could settle the question if he were allowed to examine them.

Both cases were passed to him, and after closely inspecting the crescents for a moment or two, he returned them, with the remark: 

“The stones are all paste, but a remarkably good imitation.  I should judge that they had been submitted to a certain solution or varnish, which has recently been discovered, and is used to simulate the brilliancy of diamonds, but which, if the stones are dropped in alcohol, will dissolve and vanish.”

“Impossible!” Mrs. Vanderheck protested, with some warmth.  “It cannot be that I have worn paste ornaments for more than three years, and never discovered the fact.”

“It is not strange that you were deceived,” the gentleman replied, glancing at the glittering gems, “for I think that only an expert could detect the fact, they are such a clever imitation of genuine gems.”

“I cannot believe it,” the lady persisted, “for Mrs. Bent was not out of my sight a moment, from the time the expert in Boston pronounced his verdict, until they were delivered to roe in my room at the hotel.”

“Nevertheless,” Mr. Palmer positively affirmed, “the woman must have adroitly managed to change the crescents on the way back, substituting the bogus for the real ones, for these are certainly paste.”