“The joke is old, Ada,” said Marion, smiling, and, making an effort, she rose from her chair, gathered together her flowers and mosses, and laid them on the table, before turning the handsome gilt key of the morocco case, to display, glittering in the light, a gorgeous suite of sapphires: necklet, bracelets, earrings; and a large cross, a mingling of the same gems with brilliants.
“Oh, what a lovely piece of vanity;” cried Ada, rapturously. “Oh, my darling, how proud I shall feel of my friend Lady Gernon—that is, if she does not grow too stilty for her old friend.”
“For shame, Ada!” cried Marion.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Ada. “I have my forebodings, too, and I think I may as well say good-bye for good when you start to-morrow for your tour.”
“Do you wish to make me more unhappy?” said Marion, reproachfully.
“No, of course not,” said Ada, kissing her. “But, mark my words, it will be so,” she continued, dreamily, as she clasped the jewels upon her friend’s arms and neck. “There, I declare they are quite regal, and must have cost hundreds of pounds! I love sapphires; they are so much like forget-me-nots—true blue, you know. There, how stupid I am, setting you off again! But look, darling, are they not lovely? I never saw a more beautiful suite. That cross, too—it’s magnificent! But you must take care not to lose it. The ring is slight, and it might come detached. Now, then, bathe those eyes, while I put the present away. Really I’ve a great mind to let you wear them at dinner to-night.”
Marion said nothing, and Ada slowly replaced the gems, lingering long over the cross, little thinking it was to be the bane of her cousin’s life.
Under the Shadow.
Ada Lee was right: there was a good deal of the Spanish grandee in the aspect of Sir Murray Gernon, who traced back his pedigree to the old Norman days, when, as a recompense for the service of the stout knight, Sir Piers Gernon, his squire, and so many men-at-arms, William gave him the pleasant lands whereon he built his castle, overlooking many an acre of Lincolnshire fen-land—a castle that gave place, in Tudor days, to the fine, square, massive, and roomy building, which still retained the name as well as the broad moat. Sir Murray entered the rectory drawing-room, tall, swarthy, and haughty of bearing, and was chatting graciously to the parents of his intended bride, when she entered the apartment.