The Snuffbox
Several days after their rather unpleasant meeting with Melissa’s father,
George Clayton, the three girls were “soaking up the sun” on the beach.
Of course, as it developed, there was nothing to report to Chief Reilly.
They were quite sure that Melissa had been their erstwhile burglar. More
than ever the girls felt Melissa needed a friend. They talked over the
situation, trying to piece together the girl’s story and her father’s
denial of that part which blamed him. But whether he was entirely fair
and just, trying to protect his daughter, or whether his allusions to her
“being queer” were merely a pretext to excuse himself, not even Arden the
wise ventured to decide. But in the end the opinion was unanimous that
Melissa needed friends, and they each and all resolved to do all they
could to befriend the strange, wild creature.
But finally the delightfully warm air, the friendly sun, and the inviting
ocean drove all such serious thoughts from their minds. What could be
more perfect than such a day in such a place for such girls!
Sim was almost asleep, while Arden and Terry were blissfully drowsy. They
were turning a golden tan, most becoming to all save Terry, who, as she
herself declared, was “raising a fine crop of freckles.”
Arden rolled over on her back and then sat bolt upright in surprise. Far
out of the corner of her eye she could see Dimitri Uzlov in bathing togs
coming toward them.
“Wake up, kids,” she hissed in a stage whisper. “Here comes our hero, and
he’s tramping right this way. Don’t look now! He’ll know I told you.”
Of course they did look, even though Arden had warned them not to. But
the oncoming “hero” didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he smiled pleasantly
and deliberately sat down on the sand by Arden.
“Hello,” said Arden casually, while Terry and Sim smiled vacuously.
“Hello,” he answered. “It was awfully kind of you to bring my—” he
began—“I want to thank you for rowing over to the houseboat and back with
my—— That is, I hope it did not trouble you too much,” he stammered.
He was clearly embarrassed and not at all sure how to proceed.
Arden realized at once that Dimitri was attempting to explain and for
some reason apologize for the visit of the mysterious Olga.
“Not at all,” Arden replied reassuringly. “We didn’t mind a bit.”
“I did not expect her. I was quite surprised. I do not think she will
come again.”
In his embarrassment his accent was becoming more pronounced, and Sim and
Terry shot a sly glance of delight at each other.
“Please don’t let that little thing worry you,” Arden hastened to add.
“It was nothing at all.”
“You are very kind,” Dimitri smiled. “I would like to ask you all, and
your mother,” he nodded to Terry, “to take tea with me on the houseboat.
Perhaps it would amuse you to have tea in the Russian manner. Yes?”
“We’d love it,” Terry replied quickly, “and I know Mother would, too.”
“Would I be giving you too short notice to ask you today? I am letting up
a bit in my work, and tomorrow I must begin again with new vigor,” the
young man stated simply.
“I’m sure it will be all right,” Terry answered. “We don’t have many
dates down here, and if Mother can come, we’ll all be over this
afternoon.”
“That will be charming,” Dimitri said. “I will expect you. And now I must
go home and bathe Tania so she will look her best at my little party.”
He rose and bowed, quite as dignified as if he had been fully dressed
instead of merely wearing the informal bathing suit; then he left them
smiling after him.
“What a surprise!” gasped Sim.
“What a lark!” insisted Arden.
“What fun!” squealed Terry.
“He’s so young and good-looking to have such an ugly old name,” went on
Arden, as if anxious to reconstruct the “hero” into somebody more
American.
“Adds to the glamour,” drawled Terry with assumed sophistication. “I
always did adore those foreign names.”
“Too, too divine,” mocked Sim.
“Hey, there!” exclaimed Terry. “We have got to go right now and tell
Mother. He said this afternoon.”
“Not yet,” Arden rebuked. “Wait until he gets out of sight. He’ll think
we’ve never been asked any place before if we act so—grabby.”
Impatiently they sat and waited until Dimitri had gone behind the small
pavilion; then they scrambled up and hurried to tell Terry’s mother.
She was much amused at their exuberance and laughed at the serious way
they had of deciding what they would wear. A simple tea on a houseboat
and all this to-do!
Eventually the hour rolled around, and they set out in high spirits,
Terry puffing as much with excitement as with effort as she rowed the
boatful down the bay.
Once on the houseboat they were somewhat ill at ease. But Dimitri was a
perfect host and with Old World courtesy succeeded in making them feel,
as Arden said later, “like the visiting Czarina and her daughters.”
Tania was beautifully white and fluffy, greeting them all with a friendly
“woof” and briskly wagging tail.
“Oh, a samovar!” exclaimed Arden as she sighted the polished brass urn
with a dull glowing charcoal fire underneath.
“It is only to boil the water. I could have done it on the oil stove, but
I thought you would like it this way,” Dimitri said, smiling.
“We are enjoying it,” Terry assured him. “Won’t you show Mother some of
your pictures?” she cautiously interposed.
“They are really not worth looking at,” he replied modestly. And he
seemed sincere about it, too.
“Of course they are,” Arden interrupted. “They’re lovely.”
Dimitri pulled one canvas out from a pile leaning against the wall. It
was a marine, done in dark and light blues, a fair sea and a clear sky.
The girls looked at it politely but hoped he would show them the covered
canvas, and in fact Arden stood near it, waiting. Dimitri noticed her and
gazed at her keenly for a second, as though understanding her wish.
“Now, I will show you something really lovely,” he said. “Because I am
proud of it and because it is a thing of so much beauty. I do not show it
to everyone; few people know I have it, and I ask you, please, not to
mention to anyone that I have it in my possession. Pardon me a minute,
please.”
He pushed aside a curtain that divided the room into two parts and
disappeared behind the improvised screen. They could hear him moving
something like a heavy piece of furniture, and then they heard the squeak
of a key in a lock. They looked wonderingly at each other, but no one
spoke. What could he be going to show them? Why all the mystery?
He came back almost at once, holding something in his hands as though it
were too precious to be exposed to the air. Silently they gathered around
him, and cautiously, almost solemnly, he opened his hands!
Then they beheld the treasure!
There, shining dully on his carefully outstretched palm, they beheld a
box, a tiny snuffbox of burnished gold!
“Oh!” came a chorus. But no other word was spoken.
Somehow this all seemed like some sacred rite to their still bewildered
eyes which could now discern jewels, even diamonds, surrounding the box.
It was about four inches long and an inch deep, with a delicately painted
medallion top, the medallion framed by precious stones: diamonds and
rubies!
Dimitri was watching them intently, his own eyes glittering with the
beauty of his valued possession.
Terry’s mother took a step nearer. Even she had fallen under the spell of
this strange treasure.