A Ring of Rubies

end of a week. Infact, you will be worse off, for you will have been all that timedeliberately deceiving the man you intend to marry."

  "Oh, don't begin to lecture me! Let the end of the week take care ofitself! Here are thirty pounds! Give me the ring for a week!"

  "I shall do very wrong."

  "Do wrong then! Take your money! You are looking greedily at it! Takeit, you long for it!"

  "I do long for it," I answered. "If I take it, Lady Ursula, it willavert such a storm as girls like you can never even picture. It willsave--Oh, have you a mother, Lady Ursula?"

  "Of course I have. I don't see her very often. She is at Cannes now."

  "If I take the money," I said, "it will be only for a week, remember."

  "Very well. Of course you will take it. Out with your purse. Nay,though, you shall have a new purse, and one of mine. What do you say tothis, made of red Russian leather? Here go the notes, and here thegold. Pop the purse into your pocket. Now, don't you feel nice? Wehave both got what we want, and we can both be happy for a week."

  "I will come back in a week," I said. I felt so mean when that thirtypounds lay in my pocket that I could scarcely raise my eyes. For thefirst time the difference of rank between Lady Ursula and myselfoppressed me. For the first time I was conscious of my shabby dress, myrough boots, my worn gloves. "Good-bye, Lady Ursula," I said.

  "Good-bye, good-bye! I cannot tell you how grateful I am! You are notcruel, you are not selfish. By the way, what is your name?"

  "Lindley."

  "Your Christian name?"

  "I am called Rosamund."

  "How pretty! Good-bye, Rosamund!"

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  MR CHILLINGFLEET.

  I left the house, and took the next train home. Jack was very illindeed. His fever had taken an acute form. My mother looked miserableabout him. Even the doctor was anxious.

  "I am so glad you have come back, Rose," said my mother; "you hadscarlet fever when you were a little child, so there is no fear for you,and it will be a great comfort having you in the house."

  I did not make any immediate response to this speech of my mother's. Ihad Hetty under my charge, and could not stay, and yet how queer mymother would think my absence just then. I wondered if I dared confideto her Jack's secret. It was told me in great confidence, but still--While I was hesitating, my mother began to speak again.

  "Jack has been delirious all the morning. In his delirium he has spokenconstantly of a girl called Hetty. Do we know any one of the name,Rose?"

  "_I_ know some one of the name," I responded.

  "_You_!--But what friend have you that I am not acquainted with? Idon't believe there is a single girl called Hetty in this place."

  "I know a girl of the name," I repeated. "She does not live here. Sheis a girl who is ill at present, and in--in great trouble, and I think Iought to go and nurse her. She is without the friend who should be withher, and it is right for me to take his place."

  "What _do_ you mean, Rosamund? Right for you to go away, and nurse acomplete stranger, when your own brother is so ill?"

  "But he has you, and Jane Fleming. Jack won't suffer for lack ofnursing, and the girl has no one."

  "I have old-fashioned ideas," said my mother. A pink flush covered herface. I had never seen her more disturbed. "I have old-fashionedideas, and they tell me that charity begins at home."

  At this moment Jane Fleming softly opened the door and came in. Shecertainly was a model nurse; so quiet, so self-contained, so capable.

  "Mr Jack is awake, and conscious," she said. "He fancied he heard yourvoice, Miss Rose, and he wants to see you at once."

  I glanced at my mother. She was standing with that bewilderedexpression on her face which mothers wear when their children areabsolutely beyond their control. I made my resolution on the spur ofthe moment.

  "Come with me to Jack, mother," I said.

  I took her hand, and we went softly up-stairs to the attic bedroom.Jack's great big feverish eyes lighted up with expectancy when he sawme; but when he perceived that my mother accompanied me, theirexpression changed to one of annoyance. I went up to him at once, andtook his hand.

  "Hetty is better," I said, "she has had an excellent night and is doingwell. Mother dear, please come here. I shall go back to Hetty, Jack,and take all possible care of her, and nurse her, and make her strongand well again, if you will tell our mother who she is."

  "Yes," said Jack, at once. "Yes, oh yes; she is my wife."

  My mother uttered an exclamation.

  "Tell mother all about her, Jack," I continued. "I will leave you bothtogether for five minutes, then I will return."

  I slipped out of the room, took Jane aside, and gave her a sovereign.

  "Jane," I said, "you are to make the beef-tea yourself, and you arealways to have a supply, fresh and very strong, in the house. Whenevermy mother seems tired or fagged you are to give her a cup of beef-tea,and see that she drinks it."

  "Bless you, Miss Rose, of course I will."

  "Buy anything else that is necessary," I said. "I am going awayimmediately, but shall be back on Monday afternoon."

  My five minutes were up by this time, and I stole into Jack's sick-room.He was stretched flat out in bed; his cheeks were wet as if tears hadtouched them, and one great muscular arm was flung round my mother'sneck. She was kneeling by him, and holding his hand.

  The moment I entered she looked round at me.

  "My dear love," she said, "you are perfectly right; Hetty must not beleft a moment longer than can be helped. Hush, Jack, you need have noanxiety for your wife. I--I will go to see her _myself_ if it isnecessary."

  "No, mother, you must stay with me. You are so pretty and so gentle,and your hand is so soft. Hetty's hands aren't as soft as yours."

  Here he began to wander again. My mother followed me out of the room,the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  "Oh, Rose," she said, "the poor, poor boy. And you thought, both ofyou, to hide it from your mother?"

  "No, mother, I longed for you to know; I am sure that telling you hisstory has given Jack the greatest relief. And weren't you a bit angrywith him, mother?"

  "Angry, Rosamund? Was this a time to be angry? and do mothers as a ruleturn away from repentant sons?"

  "Not mothers such as you," I replied. "Mothers worthy of the name wouldnever do such a thing," she replied. "Why, Rosamund, a mother--I say itin all reverence--stands something in the place of God. When we aretruly repentant we never feel nearer to God, and so a boy is never trulynearer to his mother than when he has done something wrong, and is sorryfor it. Come up-stairs with me at once, I must help you to make yourpreparations. You have not an hour to lose in going to Jack's Hetty."My mother was so excited, so enthusiastic, that she would scarcely giveme breathing-time to put my things together.

  "You must not delay," she kept on saying. "You have told me howcareless the landlady is, and that poor child has had no one to doanything for her since early morning. Rose, dear, how is she off forlittle comforts, and clothes and those sort of things?"

  "I should say, very badly off, mother. Hetty is as poor as poor canbe."

  "I have one or two night-dresses," began my mother.

  "Now, mother, you are not going to deprive yourself."

  "Don't talk of it in that light, Rose. Hetty is my daughter, remember."

  I felt a fierce pang of jealousy at this. My mother left the room, andpresently returned with a neatly-made-up parcel.

  "You will find some small necessaries for the poor child here," shesaid. "And now go, my darling, and God bless you. One word first,however. How are you off for money, Rose?"

  "I have plenty, mother. Don't worry yourself on that point."

  "I have a little pearl ring up-stairs, which I could sell, ifnecessary."

  The tears rushed to my eyes when my mother said this. The pearl ringwas her sole adornment, and she had worn it on Sunday ever since we wer
echildren.

  "You shall never sell your dear ring," I said.

  I rushed up to her, kissed her frantically, and left the house.

  Hetty and I spent a quiet Sunday together. She was much better, and shelooked very pretty in the warm, softly-coloured dressing-jacket whichmother had sent her. She told me her little story, which was simple asstory could be. She had no parents, nor any near relatives living.Even a distant cousin, who had paid for her education, had died twoyears previously. She thought herself very lucky when she secured thepost of English teacher at Miss West's Select Seminary