To my great surprise it was not my ruby ear-ring. It was
a small oval locket suspended from a few links of a heavy gold chain,
one of the uppermost links was crooked and broken.
I turned it over and over between my fingers, holding the candle so
that the light fell full upon it. It was not my father's; of that I
was fully certain. It had a strange, unfamiliar look about it such as
other people's small wares always have for us, and yet, the more I
examined it, the more I began to think I had seen it somewhere before.
I was mystified. As I turned my head I descried my missing ear-ring
lying in the threads of a crocheted tidy that had lain under my head.
Setting down the candle, I extricated it and restored it to my ear. I
then blew out the light and went quietly up to my own room.
I had just closed the door and secured myself against possible
intrusion when the sound of the dinner-bell broke upon my ear. I
immediately rose, and storing my newly found treasure hurriedly away,
I went down to the dining-room.
My step-mother was already there, chatting with Mrs. Hunter, who had
come in to spend a quiet hour of the afternoon, and accepted an
informal invitation to dinner.
My father had not yet returned, and as Freddie was still at college,
we were quite a cosy little dinner party in ourselves.
I apologized for my delay, accusing myself of having fallen asleep,
and with a smiling enquiry about the general health of the Hunter
family I took my seat and began to unfold my table-napkin.
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