On the palm lay a large and heavy brooch. She touched a spring, and a lid flew open, revealing the face of a very handsome man.
Squire Moulton started, and a look of hatred flashed over his countenance; for the face that looked out upon him was like the face of his deadly foe, only with a younger and fresher expression.
“Look!” she said again, and touched another spring.
The face of the man disappeared, and in its place that of a young and exquisitely beautiful girl appeared.
The dark and star-like eyes had a wistful look in their depths; the ripe, full lips a tempting curve, and masses of raven hair fell upon her neck and shoulders, spotless and fair as polished marble.
The evil man smote his brow with his hand, and caught his breath convulsively at sight of this radiant creature.
“Rose,” burst from his pale lips.
Again she repeated that one word:
“Look!”
Another spring yielded to her touch, and a dimpled, rosy-cheeked cherub, with black eyes and hair, smiled joyously up at him.