CHAPTER NINTH.
THE LOST RING.
"Wear this for me."
The old mahogany table had never reflected a circle of brighter faces than gathered about it that evening to do justice to Sophy's good things served on Miss Hetty's pretty china.
Rosalind at the left hand of her hostess looked around the company with frank enjoyment of the novelty of the occasion. These young people were very entertaining, particularly Belle; and more amusing than anything was the small waiter, at whom Miss Betty glanced so sternly when he showed a disposition to laugh at the jokes.
It was when Miss Betty began to serve the strawberries that some one remarked on the old cream-pitcher of colonial glass, and thus started her on her favorite topic of the cream-jug and sugar-dish that exactly matched her teapot and should have been hers.
This was the first time Rosalind had heard mention of old Mr. Gilpin and the will.
"My grandmother and Cousin Thomas's mother were sisters," Miss Betty explained, "and when their father and mother died the family silver was divided between them. In this way the teapot came down to me, and some of the other pieces to Cousin Anne, who was, you know, Cousin Thomas's sister."
"Was old Mr. Gilpin related to me, Cousin Betty?" asked Rosalind.