“Sir Kildene, I have thought much, and at last it seems to me right to part with these. It is little that we have––and no money, only these. What they are worth I have no knowledge. Mother may know, but to her I say nothing. They are a memory of the days when my father was noble 246 and lived at the court. If you can sell them––it is that this brooch should bring much money––my father has told me. It was saved for my dowry, with a few other jewels of less worth. I have no need of dowry. It is that I never will marry. Until my mother is gone I can well care for her with the lace I make,––and then––”
“Lass, I can’t take these. I have no knowledge of their worth––or––” He knew he was saying what was not true, for he knew well the value of what she laid so trustingly in his palm, and his hand quivered under the shining jewels. He cleared his throat and began again. “I say, I can’t take jewels so valuable over the trail and run the risk of losing them. Never! Put them by as before.”
“But how can I ask of you the things I wish? I have no money to return for them, and none for all you have done for my mother and me. Please, Sir Kildene, take of this, then, only enough to buy for our need. It is little to take. Do not be hard with me.” She pleaded sweetly, placing one hand under his great one, and the other over the jewels, holding them pressed to his palm. “Will you go away and leave my heart heavy?”
“Look here, now––” Again he cleared his throat. “You put them by until I come back, and then––”
But she would not, and tying them in her handkerchief, she thrust them in the pocket of his flannel shirt.
“There! It is not safe in such a place. Be sure you take care, Sir Kildene. I have many thoughts in my mind. It is not all the money of these you will need now, and of the rest I may take my mother to a large city, where are people who understand the fine lace. There I may sell enough to keep us well. But of money will I need first a 247 little to get us there. It is well for me, you take these––see? Is not?”
“No, it is not well.” He spoke gruffly in his effort to overcome his emotion. “Where under heaven can I sell these?”
“You go not to the great city?” she asked sadly. “How must we then so long intrude us upon you! It is very sad.” She clasped her hands and looked in his eyes, her own brimming with tears; then he turned away. Tears in a woman’s eyes! He could not stand it.
“See here. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If that railroad is through anywhere––so––so––I can reach San Francisco––” He thought he knew that to be an impossibility, and that she would be satisfied. “I say––if it’s where I can reach San Francisco, I’ll see what can be done.” He cleared his throat a great many times, and stood awkwardly, hardly daring to move with the precious jewels in his pocket. “See here. They’ll joggle out of here. Can’t you––”
She turned on him radiantly. “You may have my bag of leather. In that will they be safe.”