“Never mind—you will soon see.”
“Well then—I’ll begin.”
Each sister possessed a little sacred drawer. The sisters’ drawers were destitute of keys, for Brenda had appropriated the key for her own far more valuable possessions. Nina’s was the bottom drawer. The chest was a rude, shaky concern, but the drawer itself was deep and held a good deal. She went on her knees now and pulled it open and pushed her little hand into the farthest back corner and took from within a tiny cardboard box. Her hand shook as she laid the box in her lap and looked up at Fanchon. Fanchon did not speak. She was waiting for Nina to proceed.
“Open it quickly, do!” said Fanchon, when the little girl still hesitated.
“It’ll surprise you,” said Nina. “You never could think that I would have such a thing: but it’s my very, very own. There, look!”
The box was pulled open, the cotton wool removed, the little gilt brooch with its false turquoise was held up for Fanchon’s inspection.
“It is mine!” said Nina—“she gave it to me!”
“Who in the world is she?” asked Fanchon, very much impressed by the brooch, and secretly coveting it. “That darling Mademoiselle. Oh, I can’t tell you anything more; but she was sorry for us little girls who go to bed every night in the hot, hot hours in this hot, hot room—and she gave me this! It’s a beautiful, beautiful trinket, isn’t it?”
“It is very pretty indeed,” said Fanchon.
“Well now—you see mine,” said Josie, and she produced the brooch which held the false pearls.