CHAPTER III.
Christmas came, and home came Lord Lovel on his milk-white steed.
The night before the wedding the Baron brought to Ginevra a curiously carved ivory box.
“This is thy mother’s wedding gift,” said he. “Now is the time to open it.”
He took from his purse a small gold key. Ginevra turned the lock. The lid flew up, and showed a heap of strung pearls, each one large as a robin’s egg.
“They are beautiful!” exclaimed Ginevra, in delight.
“Beautiful!” echoed Geta.
“Yes,” said the Baron. “Their like is not in old England. I bought them at Constantinople, when I was returning from Palestine.”