"Please examine them. I want you to look them all over," Gray urged.
Mrs. Briskow acted upon this invitation only after she had dried her hands, and then with trepidation. Gingerly, reverently she removed a ring from its resting place and held it up to the light. "My! Ain't it sparkly?" she gasped, after an ecstatic pause.
Again the girl spoke, her eyes fixed defiantly upon Gray. "You could fool us easy, 'cause we never saw real di'mon's. We've allus been too pore."
The man nodded. "I hope you're not disappointed in them and I hope you are going to see and to own a great many finer ones.
"We've never seen noth—anything, nor been anywhere, yet." It was Mrs. Briskow speaking. "But we're goin'. We're goin' lots of places and we're goin' to see everything wuth seein', so Pa says. Anyhow, the children is. First off, Pa's goin' to take us to the mountains." The mother faced the visitor at this announcement and for a moment she appeared to be gazing at a vision, for her wrinkled countenance was glorified. "You've seen 'em, haven't you, mister?"
"Mountains? A great many."
Allegheny broke in: "I dunno's these di'mon's is just what I expected 'em to be. They are and—they ain't. I'm kind of disapp'inted."
Gray smiled. "That is true of most things that we anticipate or aspire to. It's the tragedy of accomplishment—to find that our rewards are never quite up to our expectations."
"Do they cost much?"
"Oh, decidedly! The prices are all plainly marked. Please look them over."