"Is Lady Ursula Redmayne at home?"
He replied in the affirmative.
"I wish to see her," I continued. "Will you have the goodness to let
Lady Ursula know at once that I have called at the request of Madame
Leroy to speak to her on the subject of a ring."
A sudden flash of intelligence and interest swept over the man's
impassive features. Then he resumed his wooden style, and flinging the
door yet wider open invited me to enter.
I was shown into a small room to the left of the great entrance hall,
and had to consume my own impatience for the next ten minutes as best I
might. At the end of that time the servant returned.
"Come this way, madam," he said.
He ushered me up a flight of stairs, down another flight of stairs,
along a dimly-lighted gallery hung with many Rembrandts and
Gainsboroughs, and suddenly opening a door ushered me into a kind of
rose-coloured bower. There was a subtle warmth and perfume about the
room, and the coloured light gave me for a moment a giddy and unnerved
feeling.
"Miss Lindley, your Ladyship," announced the man. The door was softly
closed, indeed it seemed to vanish into a wall of tapestry.
The rose-coloured light had for an instant confused my sight, and I did
not see the girl, no older than myself, who was lying back in an
easy-chair, and pulling the silken ears of a toy-terrier.
When the man left the room she sprang up, flung the dog on the ground,
who gave a squeaking bark of indignation, and came to meet me as if I
were a dear old friend.
"Sit down, Miss Lindley. How good of dear old Madame to send you to me!
And so you are the owner of that heavenly ring?"
Lady Ursula was very pretty. Her voice was like a flute; her dress was
perfection; her manner almost caressing. But even there, in that
rose-coloured bower, I recognised her imperiousness, and I felt that if
she were crossed her sweet tones would vanish, and I should be permitted
to gaze at a new side of her character.
"You have come about the ring," she said. "Now, what _do_ you want for
it? It is a treasure, but you won't be too extravagant in your demands,
will you?"
"I won't be extravagant at all, Lady Ursula," I cried. "I have no
demand to make, except to ask you to let me have my property back."
"The ring back? The ruby ring? Oh, my dear good creature you don't
understand. I wrote to Madame Leroy offering to buy it. I will give
you a cheque for it, Miss Lindley--or gold, if you prefer it. You shall
have a price for the ring. Your own price, if it is not beyond reason.
Now do you understand?"
"I understand perfectly," I replied--I am afraid my tone was nettled--I
certainly felt very angry. "I understand," I said. "You want me to
sell the ring--I don't intend to sell it. It was a legacy left to me by
a cousin, and I--I won't part with it."
I said these words so decidedly that the fine young lady, who all her
life had lived luxuriously, and, perhaps, now for the first time in her
existence had her whim refused, stared at me in amazement. Her brows
became contracted. Her pleasant, kindly, but insufferably condescending
manner changed to one more natural although less amiable. Lady Ursula
ceased to be the aristocrat, and became the woman.
"You won't sell your ring?" she said. "But you did much the same last
night. Last night you took money for the ring left to you by your--your
cousin. I wore the ruby ring, and I paid you money for the loan."
"I know you did," I answered. "I wanted money last night. I was in
despair for money. I heard through one of her apprentices that Madame
Leroy now and then hired out jewels to some of her rich customers. You
wore the ring and paid me for it. Now I want it back. I am in a hurry,
so please let me have it at once." I stood up as I spoke. Lady Ursula
did not stir.
"Sit down," she said. "No, not on that stiff little ottoman, but on the
sofa, close to me. Now we can talk cosily. This seems an exciting
story, Miss Lindley, and you have an exciting way of putting things.
Fancy you, wanting money so badly as to have to hire out your ring. I
always knew there were creatures in the world who would do anything to
secure money, but I had not an idea that ladies were put to these
straits."
"You know very little indeed about the lives of some ladies," I
answered. "The need of money comes to some who are ladies, and it
presses them sore."
"It must be awfully interesting and exciting," responded Lady Ursula.
"It is both. At the same time it is cruel; it stabs horribly."
"Ah."
Lady Ursula looked me all over from head to foot.
"Then you don't want money to-day," she said suddenly.
"Yes, I do."
"As badly as you did last night?"
"I think so. Yes, I believe I want it quite as badly."
"Then you will sell your ring; if the want of money stabs and is cruel,
you will take what opportunity offers. For the sake of a sentiment you
won't refuse to enrich yourself, and remove the pain which you speak of
as so bitter."
"I won't sell my ring," I said. "I am sorry to disoblige you, Lady
Ursula, but the question is not one which leaves any room for
consideration. I want my ring back. Will you give it to me, please?"
I really don't know how aristocratic girls are brought up. I suppose
they have a totally different training from girls who live in cottages,
and are very poor. There is compensation in all things, and no doubt if
self-denial is a virtue the cottage girl has a chance of acquiring it
which is denied to the maid who inhabits the palace.
If I never performed any other mission, I shall always feel that I was
the first person who did for Lady Ursula Redmayne the inestimable
service of saying "No" to a strong desire.
It took this beautiful young woman several moments to realise that she
absolutely could not have her way; that the humble and poor cottage girl
would not part with her legitimate property.
When Lady Ursula realised this, which she did after a considerable and
fatiguing discussion, she sat silent for a moment or two. Then she
jumped up and looked out of the window. She pulled aside the soft
rose-coloured silk curtains to take this peep into the outer world. Her
eager dark eyes looked down the street and up the street. For all her
languor she was now fully alive and even quick in her movements. With a
pettish action she let the rose curtains cover the window again, and
going to the fireplace pressed the button of an electric bell.
In a moment an elderly woman dressed in black silk, with a book-muslin
apron, and a white cap with long streamers of lace, appeared.
"Nurse," said Lady Ursula, "please give orders that I am not at home to
any callers this morning."
"I will attend to the matter, my lady," answered the nurse. "But if
Captain Valentine calls?"
"I am not at home--I make no exception."
The nurse respectfully withdrew, and the door, which opened into the
tapestry, was noiselessly closed.
"Now," said Lady Ursula, turning to me, "I am going to confide in you,
Miss Lindley."
I felt quite cross. I was dying to be home with mother and Jack, and
wondering if my poor new sister Hetty was being starved by Mrs Ashton.