CHAPTER IV OUT OF THE STAGNANT HARBOUR
Three weeks after Everest had left, Regina, coming first, as usual, into the breakfast-room, saw by her plate, on the table, a letter and a small square registered packet, both directed in his handwriting. Her heart beat rapidly; a tender mist of tears rose in her eyes. A present from him! A gift from the man she loves, what a wonderful thing that is to a woman! Gifts from all the world, from kings and emperors, might move her not at all, but one little thing that he has chosen, has selected, sought out and bought for her, how infinitely dear it is!
Regina went up to the table, and taking the letter hastily concealed it in the bosom of her dress. Not here, but in the sacred garden, she would read it.... Here, it might be snatched from her and destroyed before she could do so. The packet she turned over and commenced to open. At last, from out of its silver paper and casing, the jewel lay revealed, and she stood, gazing a little awestruck at its flashing beauty.
It was a diamond star, to be worn as a brooch, and, every spike radiating from the centre diamond of great size and brilliancy, was composed of selected stones. Worked in across the star, in sapphires, were the words "Regina Imperatrix," and the blue and white lights from sapphire and diamond shone dazzlingly from their satin bed.
While she stood gazing at it, thinking of the care and thought he must have bestowed on it, and the colour racing across her cheeks as she felt the meaning of the word "Imperatrix" come home to her, the Rector and the rest of the family entered the room.
"Why, Regina, what's that?" the Rector asked cheerily. On the loose paper of the wrapper he recognised Everest's handwriting, and was not at all ill-pleased to see what he had sent to his daughter.
Personally, as a business matter—and everything was a business matter to the Rector—he did not care a bit which daughter it was that Everest fancied. He could only marry one, and any one would be just as good for the rest of the family. The Rector was an extremely acute individual where worldly matters were concerned, and, while the others had been really blind to what was passing so close to them, he had had a pretty good idea of the meaning of Everest's love of afternoon exercise and where his walks to the sea had taken him. In the back of his mind was the fear that it all might lead to some irregular connection, but while his code of morality for his girls was absolutely rigid where poor men might be concerned, Everest's great wealth made it suddenly grow very elastic. Regular connections sometimes grew out of irregular ones, and no connection with a rich man could be wholly bad. Hence his amiable glance on his youngest daughter as she held out to him her starry jewel.
Jane Marlow pressed up close to him. Her face was ashy-white and seemed suddenly to line with age, so closely are age and evil allied.
"How disgraceful! Presents like that from a man! You'll make her return it, won't you, father?"
She trembled in her virtuous indignation. She could have torn the star from his hand and trampled on it.