“Humph! Lost it? Then if I had money and tried for our family estates, I might lose it too.”
“No, no, my boy; you would be certain to win. Did you do what I told you?”
“Yes, aunt; but I can’t use them down here.”
“Let me look, my dear; and I do not see why not. You must be bold; and proud of your descent.”
“But they’d laugh.”
“Let them,” said Aunt Margaret grandly. “By and by they will bow down. Let me see.”
The young man took a card-case from his pocket, on which was stamped in gold a French count’s coronet.
“Ah! yes; that is right,” said the old lady, snatching the case with trembling fingers, opening it, and taking out a card on which was also printed a coronet. “Comte Henri des Vignes,” she read, in an excited manner, and with tears in her eyes. “My darling boy!”
“Cost a precious lot, aunt; made a regular hole in your diamond ring.”
“Did you sell it?”