"We don't lend money, miss," the girl said, "we buy outright. I can give you twenty-eight shillings for this," she added.
"Twenty-eight shillings," Helen gasped; "why, it is worth—oh, ever so much more than that!"
"That is all it is worth to us," the girl answered. She regarded the ring indifferently and laid it away from her on the counter. The action was final.
Helen's hands rose slowly to her breast, where a pretty watch dangled from a bow-knot of crushed diamonds. It was her only possession, and she was very fond of it. It also was the gift of one of the several great ladies who had adopted her since her residence in London. Helen had painted a miniature of this particular great lady which had looked so beautiful that the pleasure which the original of the portrait derived from the thought that she still really looked as she did in the miniature, was worth more to her than many diamonds.
But it was different with Helen, and no one could count what it cost her to tear away her one proud possession.
"What will you give me for this?" she asked, defiantly.
The girl's eyes showed greater interest. "I can give you twenty pounds for that," she said.
"Take it, please," Helen begged, as though she feared if she kept it a moment longer she might not be able to make the sacrifice.
"That will be enough now," she went on, taking out her ten-pound note. She put Lady Gower's ring back upon her finger and picked up Philip's ring and watch with the pleasure of one who has come into a great fortune. She turned back at the door.
"Oh," she stammered, "in case anyone should inquire, you are not to say who bought these."