‘I cannot sleep this lovely morning,’ said Eve; then, with true feminine non-sequitur; ‘So you must get up, Barbie.’
‘Oh, Eve, is it time?’ Barbara sat up in bed instantly wide awake. Her sister seated herself on the side of the bed and laid her hand in her lap.
‘Eve!’ exclaimed Barbara suddenly, ‘what have you there—on your finger? Who gave you that?’
‘It is a ring, Bab. Is it not beautiful, a forget-me-not of turquoise set in a circlet of gold?’
‘Who gave it you, Eve?’
‘A pixy gift!’ laughed the girl carelessly.
‘This will not do. You must answer me. Where did you get it?’
‘I found it, Barbie.’
‘Found it—where?’
‘Where are forget-me-nots usually found?’ Then hastily, before her sister could speak, ‘But what a lovely ring you have got on your pincushion, Bab! Mine cannot compare with it. Is that the ring I heard the maids say you lost?’