Giacinta glanced at him with a smile. "No doubt you think he is right in that also," she observed.
Silvio laughed. "How like you are to Babbo, sometimes!" he exclaimed. "Yes, I think he is quite right. The only thing is, Giacinta—" and he paused, hesitatingly.
"That you would not know what to say in the letter?"
"Ah, no! Well, perhaps I do not know what to say. If it amuses you to think so, I am quite content. The question is, that I want to send something to Bianca—something that I value. You understand? I have given her nothing as yet—I have not even written to her. I want to send her something—with my letter—something that belonged to our mother. It is so easy to walk into a shop and buy a bit of jewelry, but it is not the same thing—"
"I understand," said Giacinta, quietly.
"And so," continued Silvio, a little hurriedly, "I thought that if I sent her one of our mother's rings—you have all her jewelry, Giacinta, have you not? You could spare me one of the rings, perhaps?"
"They are as much yours as mine," answered Giacinta. "Babbo gave the jewelry into my charge; you know there are pearls and other things. Wait, and I will bring you the case from my room, and then you can see for yourself."
She got up from her chair and went into the next room, returning presently with an old case covered with faded red velvet and fastened with heavy clasps of gilded metal.
"Ecco!" she said, holding out to Silvio an elaborately ornamented key, also heavily gilded. "You must turn it three times in the lock before it will open the box. In the upper tray there are the rings, and below are the pearls."
"The pearls can remain where they are," observed Silvio. "You will want them when you marry," he added, as he unlocked and opened the case. "I will take this ring," he continued, pointing to an old "marquise" ring, on which a sapphire was mounted in the centre of a cluster of white Brazilian diamonds. "The rest you will keep, but this one I will send to Bianca and tell her that it belonged to my mother. You do not mind, Giacinta?"