Whose music hid the words they said,
Sharper than an arrow’s head.
“Hushed and told him all was loss,
All his wealth but gilded dross;
Bars retain nor rubies buy
Love, whose light wings cleave the sky!”
She thought with anguish of her lost lover’s cruel plight, exiled from his ancestral home and believing her false, perhaps cursing her very memory for the trick she had seemingly played on him in marrying Harold Castello.
“Oh, that is the most cruel blow of all, for Cecil to believe me false and hate my memory!” she cried, and involuntarily flung out her white hand with a gesture of despair. The opal ring threw out a hundred changeful, shifting lights, and she suddenly recalled the words Cecil had uttered when he placed it on her hand:
“Let me put this little ring on your finger, precious. It is an opal, and is gifted with the power to show whether lovers keep their faith. If false, the gem will grow dull and lifeless, its brightness all gone; but if true, it will glow with the fiery hues of the furnace. Wear it always, my darling, and let it be the test of my love till the happy day that unites us forever.”
The beautiful jewel, glowing with its rich prismatic hues, put new faith into the heart of the poor, unhappy girl.