“Two. Rose and Florence. Rose was the younger and the favorite with her father. She was a pretty thing too. Far too handsome to suit Florence. I think I have a picture somewhere.”
“Oh, never mind,” Madge said hastily. She was interested in the story which she felt Mrs. Grandale was on the verge of telling, and did not wish her to digress lest she forget.
“What was I saying? Oh, yes, Rose and Florence were rivals and they were both anxious to get their hands on the Swenster pearls.”
“I never heard about them,” Madge remarked. “Were they valuable?”
“They were reputed to be worth a small fortune. The pearls had been bought abroad generations before and were perfectly matched. They were to be passed down to the eldest daughter.”
“Then Florence was to have them,” Cara observed.
“According to custom, yes. But that was what caused all the trouble. During his lifetime, old Mr. Swenster permitted the girls to take turns wearing the pearls. They were very jealous of their father’s favor in regard to the privilege, or so rumor had it. Florence thought the pearls were hers and resented having her sister even wear them.
“Then Mr. Swenster died and when his will was read, the daughters had the surprise of their lives. It was learned that he had left the pearls to his favorite, Rose.”
“That must have stirred up trouble,” Madge smiled.
“Yes, Florence considered it a great injustice. She claimed she had been cheated out of her rightful inheritance. For a time, there was a disgraceful fuss.”