'Yes, that is the hand I want,' said the lady, and put the ring on the forefinger of it.
'What a beautiful ring!' said Irene. 'What is the stone called?'
'It is a fire-opal.' 'Please, am I to keep it?'
'Always.' 'Oh, thank you, grandmother! It's prettier than anything I ever saw, except those—of all colours-in your—Please, is that your crown?'
'Yes, it is my crown. The stone in your ring is of the same sort—only not so good. It has only red, but mine have all colours, you see.'
'Yes, grandmother. I will take such care of it! But—' she added, hesitating.
'But what?' asked her grandmother.
'What am I to say when Lootie asks me where I got it?'
'You will ask her where you got it,' answered the lady smiling.
'I don't see how I can do that.'