Mrs. Desmond was sitting before the dressing-table with a small jewel-casket open in her lap.
She was turning over some pretty rings with her white fingers.
Celine went up to the table and began to get out the combs and brushes.
"Are you ready for me to do your hair?" she inquired.
"In a moment," replied Mrs. Desmond. "I am looking over my rings now. I want to select one of the neatest and plainest for a present to someone."
Celine simpered and coughed. She fully expected to become the fortunate recipient.
"I must confess that I have been mistaken for once," continued Mrs. Desmond, half to herself. "When the girl came here first, I was prejudiced against her, partly because she was so pretty and childish-looking, and again because we had had so many hateful nurses, I thought she must necessarily be like them. But I was for once happily mistaken. She has been so humble and unobtrusive, and endeared herself so much to my little girl, that I must really reward her for her good care of my darling during my absence."
"Of whom are you speaking, ma'am?" inquired Celine, green with envy, as the lady paused, having selected a plain, gold band, set with a single, shining, white pearl.
"Of Mary Smith," Mrs. Desmond replied, "and I am going to give her this ring in token of my respect for her good character, and my gratitude for the really motherly care which she has taken of my dear, frail, little Ruby."