Then her face grew very pale, for strange to say there were two blue diamonds on either side of it... two stones of a livid brilliance sending out piercing rays of azure light and seeming to guard that little gate of platinum which held the chain together. It seemed an extraordinary coincidence! What was it that Mrs Solano had said about “defects” and a “Death’s head”? She raised the chain high to the light and gazed intently into the heart of each. And then her own heart gave a beat and seemed to wait a little. For in one of those blue diamonds there were three tiny dots that gave back the curious illusion of a squinting, grinning Death’s head.
Yet, in the morning, even as Valeria had predicted, on her tray lay the letter of apology from Mrs Solano. It was not abject, however. That high-spirited and adventurous Jewess knew not, it seemed, the paths of humility. But she was not without courtesy in her amende honourable.
Dear Mrs Temple:
I am sure that you received your necklace back safely from the trusted hands of our mutual friend, Mr Quelch. I have to tell you how extremely sorry I am for the foolish mistake I made. I am afraid that it caused you much pain and vexation and can only ask you very sincerely to forgive me and forget all about the unfortunate incident.
Very faithfully yours,
Rachel Solano.
Oh, yes, Mrs Temple forgave. She was only too thankful to do so. A great weight seemed lifted off her shoulders. But the shock she had received from the “unfortunate mistake” together with the fatigue of dancing and the excitement generally had left her very weary. She decided to rest for a great part of the day, and lay abed, gently dreaming. With her lunch came copies of the two daily papers. Like all local newspapers they were not very interesting to visitors. But to-day there was, naturally, a long account of the Royal reception and Ball of the night before. Loree glanced down the printed columns to find herself famous as “the lovely Mrs Temple.” Far more room was given to her in the news than to the famous Princess Evelyn. Every item of her toilette was described, every shade of her gown, every leaf almost in the sheaf of roses she had carried. The journalists dwelt upon her glorious hair, its maze of bronze curls above her face of ivory and roses, they spoke of the grace of her walk, her exquisite dancing. It was only natural she should glow a little, lying there reading those panegyrics of praise. She had never before seen herself in print.
She could not, however, help being struck by a fact which seemed very curious. Not a word had been written about her diamond chain. What made the omission conspicuous was that almost every other woman’s jewels were mentioned in detail, their diamonds counted, and catalogued. There were:
“Mrs Ikey Mosenthal’s famous tiara—”
“Mrs Solly Moses’ wreath of Jagersfontein roses—”
“Miss Rebecca Isaac’s magnificent necklace and pendant of water-white stones—”
“Lady von Guggenheim’s priceless plaque of black diamonds—”