“I think it’s only paste, my dear. However, you can run around to the jeweller’s and find out. I must go now.”
“Oh, dear me!” sighed Cricket, sorrowfully; “I thought we surely had found some excitement. Well, come on, Hilda; let’s go to Spencer’s and find out. If it isn’t a real diamond, may we have it, papa?”
“Yes,” answered Doctor Ward, absentmindedly, turning to find something else he wanted.
At Spencer’s the clerk took the ring with a smile.
“No, it isn’t a diamond,” he said, after giving it a careless glance. “Found it? No, it isn’t worth advertising.”
The two girls, who had still clung to the hope that they had found a diamond, looked immensely disappointed at this decision. They took the ring and walked slowly homeward, discussing the affair.
“If it isn’t a real diamond, and if it isn’t worth advertising, we might sell it for what it is worth,” suggested Hilda, brilliantly, at last. “Let’s go into the first jeweller’s store we come to, and ask him to buy it.”
“Could we?” said Cricket, doubtfully. “Is it ours enough for that?”
“Of course, goosie. Your father said we might have it, didn’t he? Of course we have a right to sell it and keep the money. He wouldn’t care,” urged Hilda.
“No, I s’pose not,” returned Cricket, hesitating. “How much do you suppose we’d get for it?”