“Pardon, madame, you are wanted at the telephone,” and as Mrs. Truxton lifted herself carefully out of her chair and walked out of the room, she handed a package to Eleanor. “This has just come for you, Mademoiselle; the boy who left it said there was no answer.”
“Annette! Annette!” came Mrs. Truxton’s shrill voice from the lower hall.
“Coming, Madame, coming,” and the maid hastened out of the room shutting the door behind her.
Left alone, Eleanor turned the sealed package over curiously. The address was written in an unknown hand. Quickly breaking the red sealing wax and tearing off the paper, she removed the pasteboard cover and a layer of cotton. A startled exclamation escaped her as she drew out the contents of the box—a necklace of large rubies and smaller diamonds in an antique setting.
Eleanor, who knew the value of jewels, realized from their color and size that the rubies were almost priceless, and in the pure joy of beholding their beauty laid the necklace in the palm of her left hand and along her bare arm. After contemplating the effect for a moment, a thought occurred to her, and she pulled out the remaining cotton in the box and found at the bottom a small card. She picked it out and read the message written on the card.
“The appointment was not kept. Well done.”
The card fluttered to the floor unheeded. The pigeon blood rubies made a crimson stain on Eleanor’s white arm, strong wrist, and supple fingers.