It was a perfect round of opals, designed on exactly the same plan as that worn by Plucritus, with a wonderful stone in the centre.
“Look at this ring,” he said thoughtfully. “Every tint of the rainbow is blended in it, and sparkles at every turn, and yet running round from stone to stone, and centring in the largest like one pure drop, there is to-night a streak of blood, a streak of red, I should say, and that means pain. Now I know the meaning of that. It means failure and disappointment—two things that I detest more than any other.”
Virginius then likewise removed from the middle finger of his left hand a ring of similar construction, but of diamonds, pure and flashing bright.
“Look at this ring,” he said. “Every flash of dazzling light is imprisoned in it. To-night it has shone with marvellous brilliancy. Look at this centre stone; it is glorious. This means success.”
“To you, perhaps. But your reckoning of success is somewhat strange”; and Genius looked at the dazzling purity with interest, for it was marvellously bright. Presently he added: “And yet had we compared rings with Plucritus I doubt not that he would have been able to express an opinion too. I noticed the scarlet bloodstones were expressly bright to-night.”
“Even so,” replied the other spirit.
CHAPTER II
The shabby old farmyard, small and dingy as it might appear to one more accustomed to the outside world, was a huge and magnificent place to the untravelled. The gates, the doors, the barns, the stables, the cow-sheds, the very puddles and the cart-ruts were tremendous. The swing in the granary took you higher and gave you a more delicious feeling than any other swing could. In fact, you doubted if there could be found another swing in the whole wide world worthy to be called a swing beside it. Then when you went to play at “houses,” couldn’t you just wander off on to the rocky lots and pick and choose just what you liked? That very big rock was the drawing-room, and all the little rocks the chairs and tables. And over there by the flat rock you had your dining-room, and a little further off was the kitchen.
But you didn’t reckon much of the kitchen. You saw that every day. But drawing-rooms and dining-rooms! you didn’t often get into these in real life, for in your house there was only a parlour with a glorious thunder-and-lightning carpet. For all that, the parlour had its attractions too. The family never sat in there unless there was “company.” Then, of course, state had to be kept up. On ordinary days you played about the kitchen and listened to the ghost stories of the servant girl. And my! no duchess in the land could have been more interesting to you than that girl. She belonged to the Salvation Army, and could sing hymns that really were interesting, not like those you sang at church, which were so roundabout you couldn’t understand them. This is what she used to sing, and the tune was so catchy and easy you could never forget it:—
“The devil and me