The duchess went with Lady Corisande one morning to Mr. Ruby’s to choose a present from her daughter to each of the young ladies. Mr. Ruby in a back shop poured forth his treasures of bracelets, and rings, and lockets. The presents must be similar in value and in beauty, and yet there must be some difference between them; so it was a rather long and troublesome investigation, Mr. Ruby, as usual, varying its monotony, or mitigating its wearisomeness, by occasionally, or suddenly, exhibiting some splendid or startling production of his art. The parure of an empress, the bracelets of grand-duchesses, a wonderful fan that was to flutter in the hands of majesty, had all in due course appeared, as well as the black pearls and yellow diamonds that figure and flash on such occasions, before eyes so favored and so fair.
At last—for, like a prudent general, Mr. Ruby had always a great reserve—opening a case, he said, “There!” and displayed a crucifix of the most exquisite workmanship and the most precious materials.
“I have no hesitation in saying the rarest jewel which this century has produced. See! the figure by Monti; a masterpiece. Every emerald in the cross a picked stone. These corners, your grace is aware,” said Mr. Ruby, condescendingly, “contain the earth of the holy places at Jerusalem. It has been shown to no one but your grace.”
“It is indeed most rare and beautiful,” said the duchess, “and most interesting, too, from containing the earth of the holy places. A commission, of course?”
“From one of our most eminent patrons,” and then he mentioned Lothair’s name.
Lady Corisande looked agitated.
“Not for himself,” said Mr. Ruby.
Lady Corisande seemed relieved.
“It is a present to a young lady—Miss Arundel.”
Lady Corisande changed color, and, turning away, walked toward a case of works of art, which was in the centre of the shop, and appeared to be engrossed in their examination.