It proved to be a small box, which, upon opening, Gerald found to contain a modest—as to size—but flawless diamond, in the form of a stud.
On an accompanying card were written these words:
“With grateful remembrance and kindest regards.
“Charles and Annie Manning.”
Gerald was deeply touched by the testimonial, and greatly delighted with the beautiful gift.
He did not once see or hear from Allison throughout the summer, although, for years, he had never failed to receive an invitation to spend a day or two at Newport with the family, but the memory of those few last moments on that never-to-be-forgotten night at Lakeview—that lingering, betraying caress, and the trustful, loving look in the sweet, startled eyes uplifted to his, was a source of never-failing joy to him.
“I will yet be worthy to claim her, morally, intellectually, and—financially,” he often said to himself, with that same look of determination with which he had once told John Hubbard that nothing was unattainable to him who is bound to win.
The Brewsters remained at the fashionable watering-place until the middle of September, when Mr. and Mrs. Manning went abroad for an extended tour. Allison returned to Smith College, at Northampton, where she had two years more of study before her, and the banker settled himself in his winter home on Madison Avenue.
Thus another twelve months passed. John Hubbard still continued, apparently, to prosper in his worldly affairs, while he seemed to have utterly forgotten his enmity against Gerald.
But from time to time Gerald observed that his employer seemed preoccupied, and wore an anxious look. He was often taciturn, and occasionally harshly impatient, while, upon two or three occasions, he made strenuous efforts to tide over the meeting of certain obligations, which both surprised and troubled his confidential clerk.