by L. T. Meade
somewhat grave as he saw me slip such a preciousrelic into so insecure a hiding-place.
"_Do_ keep out of crowds," he said. "Beware of pickpockets when you getto Paddington, and, above all, keep your pocket side next your motherwhen you get into the train."
I don't think I attended to any of these directions, but the little oldbrown morocco case containing Cousin Geoffrey's legacy arrived safely atIvy Lodge, the name of our humble abode.
My mother and I got back in time for supper. My father and the boysarrived home as usual, and we sat down together to our supper.
I felt excited and full of my subject.
Surely on this night the departed relative might be mentioned; thecurious scene after the funeral might be detailed for the benefit ofthose who were not present. But, as we approached the table, my motherheld up a warning, finger.
"Not a word about Cousin Geoffrey," she whispered to me.
The evening meal was even more dull than usual. No one alluded to theevents of the day. George read a battered novel as he sipped his tea,and my father perused the evening paper, as was his invariable custom.
After tea, Jack, my youngest brother, came up and asked me a question.
"Any money left to you by the old miser, eh, Rosey?"
"No, Jack, certainly not."
"Well, miss, you needn't look so fierce. A pity not, say I. Girls areof very little value nowadays unless they have a good supply of thechink to add to their charms."
"Jack, you are positively vulgar, I hate you to talk to me like that."
"All right, my dear. I have no desire to have any further conversationwith you. I'm dead tired and have a headache. I shall go to bed."
Jack mounted the stairs to his own loft in the roof, and, as soon aspossible, I followed his example. Having locked my door and lighted theprecious inch of candle which was all that was ever allowed me to go tobed with, I took a key out of my pocket, and unfastening the box whichcontained all my greatest treasures, proceeded to place some waxChristmas tapers in various small sconces, and then to light them one byone. I had quite an illumination, as I sat down by my dressing-table toexamine leisurely the legacy which had been left to me that day.
I took the little case out of my pocket, pressed the spring, and gazedat the treasure within. The fire which lay in the heart of the rubyleaped up at once to meet the illumination which I had made for it. Inow perceived what I had not noticed before, that the ring containedthree rubies. One of unusual size in the centre; one much smaller ateach side. I saw at a glance that they had all eyes of fire, that theywere beautiful, fantastic, bewitching. I suddenly pressed the littlering to my lips.
"Gift from Fairyland, welcome!" I said. "Open, sesame, and let me intoyour magical secrets! My life is _so_ prosaic, _so_ commonplace.Comfort me, little ring! Reveal to me the world of romance! Show medreams, bring to me visions! Speak with those fiery eyes; speak, Ilisten!"
I suddenly stopped this rhapsody with a laugh.
"If my respected father and brothers heard me now they would think thatI had taken leave of my senses," I soliloquised. "Well, this is a dearlittle ring, and I am glad Cousin Geoffrey gave it to me. How small itis--it won't go on my tiniest finger. I wonder what kind of woman woreit last. It is of heavy make to be a woman's ring. How solid the goldis, and how quaintly carved. I see there is the device of a serpentworked very richly into the gold at each side, and the smaller rubyforms the eye. Really, this looks like witchery, a serpent with a fieryeye. Two serpents, rather, for each is complete in itself. How much toget into so little. No wonder the ring is heavy. Very different fromthat little slender hoop of mother's which contains the single smallbright diamond, which used to delight me when I was a child."
Having examined the ring from every point of view I presently blew outthe precious Christmas tapers. They were much too valuable to waste, soI put them back into my box, placed the ring in its case by their side,and got into bed.
The next morning I spoke to my mother. "I have been disappointed in myfirst effort to open the oyster-shell," I said.
"What do you mean, Rosamund?"
"Only that I must seek some other means to secure the necessary money totake me to the Slade School."
"My darling, I wish you would put such a futile idea out of your head."
"Mother dear, I cannot. It is fixed and established there by this time.I must go to the Slade School, and I must find the means for defrayingthe necessary expenses. Now, if I were to sell my ruby ring--"
"Oh, Rose, you surely are not serious."
My mother's face turned pale with apprehension.
"I don't think I am," I said. "I don't believe I could part with thepretty thing. I love it already. Besides, Cousin Geoffrey did not wishme to sell it."
"Rose, dear, your father doesn't know that Geoffrey left you the ring."
"Very well, mother, I shan't enlighten him."
"I believe that ruby ring is of considerable value," continued mymother. "I know it well. It belonged to Geoffrey's mother, and wasleft to her by an old ancestress, who brought a good deal of money andconsiderable misery to the house. Geoffrey's mother would never wearthe ring, but he was fond of it, and had a link made at the back tofasten it to his watch-chain. I know the large ruby in the middle isworth a great deal."
All the time my mother was speaking she was going on with that endlessdarning which always gave me a sore dull feeling in my heart. If thereis a dismal employment it is darning, and my mother's little delicatefingers looked as if they were surely never meant for such an ungainlytask.
"I wonder who Cousin Geoffrey has left all his money to?" I saidsuddenly. "I wonder if the rightful heirs will appear within the fiveyears. I certainly should not like any of the relatives to have it."
"I would not think about it, if I were you, Rosamund. We, of course,are completely out of it."
"I don't know why we should be. You are one of the nearest relations."
"Well, dear, we are out of it, so that ends the matter."
My mother spoke with quite unwonted irritation.
"It was a very curious will," I said after a pause; "very eccentric."
"Geoffrey was always eccentric, Rose, I've told you so scores of times."
"I wish I knew who was the heir," I repeated, getting up restlessly andstanding by the fire. "Mother, have you any messages for me to do intown to-morrow?"
"In town? Surely, Rosamund, you are not going up to London so soonagain. You have got no money; how can you pay your fare?"
"Yes, I have half-a-sovereign from my last allowance."
"Oh, but that is extravagance."
"I can't help it, mother. I must go to a jeweller to ask him to valuethe ring. Oh, no, I shan't sell it, but I cannot rest until I know itsvalue."
My mother looked vexed, but she knew it was useless to argue with mewhen I had fully made up my mind.
"I do not know what girls are made of in these days," she remarked in aplaintive voice. "They are quite a different order of being from thegirl of eighteen whom I used to know, when I was young. They areobstinate, and are quite sure to tell their elders every hour of the daythat they know a great deal more about the ways and doings of life thanthey do, that they are quite capable of guiding their own actions."
"Mother, you are not angry?" I said suddenly. "Oh no, dear," shereplied at once.
"I cannot help taking my own way, but I love you with all my heart," Isaid irrelevantly. "I must take my ring to town and have it valued, butbelieve me, I shall do nothing really rash."
"I must trust you, Rose," she said then. "You are a queer girl, but Ihave never known you do a really imprudent thing in your life, except onthe rare occasion when you would force yourself on Cousin Geoffrey'snotice."
"Mother dear, was that rash? I have got my beautiful ruby ring."
My mother smiled and said no more. I left the room, knowing that shewould make no opposition to my going to town on the following morning.
When the day broke, I got up early, for I felt too restless to sleep. Iwore my best dress when I came down to breakfast; and when my father andbrothers were ready to start for London, I accompanied them.
On the way up I noticed how ill Jack looked. He had a much nicer facethan George, and I could have been fond of him had he ever shown theslightest desire to win my regard. But from his babyhood he wasreserved and morose, and shared my father's ideas with regard to women.Jack was serving his time to a solicitor in the City. At present he wasearning no money, but the happy day when he could add to the familypurse, and so relieve some of the dreadful burden of penury and scantyliving, was