There were three rings,--one a plain heavy band of yellow
gold, one set with a blazing red stone, one with a cluster of sparkling
white gems. There was a bead purse with a gold piece and a few silver
coins in it. And there was a gold locket containing the portrait of a
high-bred old gentleman with soft, dark hair falling in curls about his
shoulders.
One gray morning early in November, Anne was wakened by an uncomfortable
lump against her side. Sleepily she put her hand down to find out what
it was. Her fingers closed on something hard, and opening them she saw
rings, locket, and purse. The string around the packet had worn in two,
the packet had come open and spilled its contents. Anne started up in
bed, wide awake now, and glanced fearfully around. Honey-Sweet, snuggled
down under the pillow, lay peacefully unaware that she had lost the
treasure intrusted to her. All the girls were asleep. But at any moment
one of them might wake. And it was almost time for Louise to come,
bringing water and towels. Anne sprang out of bed, and with hurrying,
trembling fingers tied the trinkets in the corner of a handkerchief and
thrust them in the bottom of her box.
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