BACK they went to the jeweller’s four doors up. To the expert eye
of William, the ring on inspection was so little like Miss Babraham’s
that he seemed to have a qualm about buying it. He had a fancy for
moonstones and diamonds, but Crowdham Market’s only jeweller did not
run to these. June was firm, besides, that the ring in her hand was
cheap at nine guineas, and as no one could call it vulgar, it was
quite good enough.
William was sure it was nothing like good enough. “But when we get to
London, you shall have moonstones and diamonds.”
“That’ll be lovely,” said June; and a deep thrill ran in her heart as
she realized that her dreams were coming true.
William took a wad of Bradburys from his breast pocket. He was now a
man of property, with a rent roll of twelve hundred a year, but even a
most careful counting would not let them muster more than seven. June,
however, as became the lawful owner of an Old Master, whom to acquire
for the nation a committee had been lately formed, was equal to the
occasion. For she promptly took a wad from the vanity bag which now
graced her travels instead of her mother’s old purse, and made up the
sum.
In the meantime, the jeweller, a man of ripe experience, had put two
and two together.
“Will you wear it, madam, or will you have it packed in the box?”
An unconventional question, no doubt, but places like Crowdham Market
are close to nature and get down to bedrock by short cuts.
“I’ll wear it,” June answered. “And I’ll have the box as well. It’ll do
for my dressing table to keep pins in.”
The jeweller, one of the old school, bowed to June as he handed her the
box and also the change. And then, a jeweller with a fine technique, he
smiled at William in a Masonic manner and handed him the ring.
June, as cool as if she was on parade, removed a white kid glove from
her left hand. “That’s the heart finger,” she said.
If she blushed a little, the jeweller was too busy writing out the
receipt at the other end of the shop to be aware of the fact.