There was no under-bred eagerness in her tones as she said it, but Margaret suspected that there might be a little in her heart, and she was not sorry when Decourcy answered, merely:
“Thank you; you’re very kind,” and then changed the subject by saying:
“I picked up a little present for you, when I was in Naples, Margaret. I unpacked it this morning and will send it to you.”
A few minutes after this he took leave, having made on both ladies an extremely good impression, which Mrs. Gaston owned to, in voluble phrases, and which Margaret concealed under a very calm exterior.
A day or two later Alan called again, and brought with him Lord Waring, who proved to be a little dull. He was shy and constrained in manner and hampered by a certain gawkiness which Decourcy’s exquisite ease of breeding made the more apparent. In spite of all this, however, there was something rather distinguished in the young foreigner, a sincerity and simplicity that stamped him as a man of worth, and a commanding self-security that was as far removed from self-sufficiency as possible.
It was arranged between Miss Trevennon and her cousin that they were to go to Baltimore in a few days, and it was not until he rose to take leave that he put into her hands a box, which he told her contained the little present he had spoken of.
As soon as the two gentlemen had gone, Margaret tore open the parcel with the eagerness of a girl to whom presents are somewhat rare, and discovered, in a beautiful little mosaic box, an antique silver chatelaine of the most rare and exquisite workmanship. There was a small watch, and other richly chased pendents, and the whole thing was pretty enough to delight any girl alive, even in the absence of a just appreciation of its value. Cousin Eugenia, however, being thoroughly initiated in all such matters, was handling and examining it with a depth of appreciation that almost brought tears to her eyes.
“Why, Margaret, it is a superb present,” she exclaimed; “a veritable antique, such as not one woman in a thousand is lucky enough to possess. You must let me show it to Mrs. Norman; she is continually flaunting hers in peoples’ faces, and it doesn’t compare with this. I should say it is quite modern beside this. Just look at these clasps. The watch is not so antique, but the chains and clasps are wonderful.”
Margaret, as she looked on and listened, could scarcely conceal the amusement she felt. She had often before this had reason to observe the almost solemn emotion with which Cousin Eugenia was wont to regard certain articles of great luxuriousness or magnificence. She had seen her stirred to the soul by a plush portière, and almost tearful at the mere recollection of a French costume. Appreciation was one thing, but this was another. It transcended mere appreciation, and seemed, in some way, to be tinctured with the heroic.
“What an æsthete you would have made, Cousin Eugenia, if only the proper influences had been brought to bear!” said Margaret, laughing. “I can fancy you speaking, in awed and hushed accents, of a strange and mysterious color, or a significant and subtle bit of drapery. You consider yourself unemotional, but you have depths which may be stirred. It takes a silver chatelaine of a rare order to compass it, however, or something as imposing. I have to thank you for enlightening me as to the value of Alan’s gift. If I tell him you wept upon it, it may compensate in some measure for my Philistinism.”