Surely on this night the departed relative might be mentioned; the
curious scene after the funeral might be detailed for the benefit of
those who were not present. But, as we approached the table, my mother
held 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 the
events 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 are
of very little value nowadays unless they have a good supply of the
chink 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 conversation
with 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 as
possible, I followed his example. Having locked my door and lighted the
precious inch of candle which was all that was ever allowed me to go to
bed with, I took a key out of my pocket, and unfastening the box which
contained all my greatest treasures, proceeded to place some wax
Christmas tapers in various small sconces, and then to light them one by
one. I had quite an illumination, as I sat down by my dressing-table to
examine leisurely the legacy which had been left to me that day.
I took the little case out of my pocket, pressed the spring, and gazed
at the treasure within. The fire which lay in the heart of the ruby
leaped up at once to meet the illumination which I had made for it. I
now perceived what I had not noticed before, that the ring contained
three rubies. One of unusual size in the centre; one much smaller at
each side. I saw at a glance that they had all eyes of fire, that they
were beautiful, fantastic, bewitching. I suddenly pressed the little
ring to my lips.
"Gift from Fairyland, welcome!" I said. "Open, sesame, and let me into
your magical secrets! My life is _so_ prosaic, _so_ commonplace.
Comfort me, little ring! Reveal to me the world of romance! Show me
dreams, bring to me visions! Speak with those fiery eyes; speak, I
listen!"