JUST AN OLD CURIO.

Waikato Argus, Volume III, Issue 209, 13 November 1897, Page 1 (Supplement)

JUST AN OLD CURIO.

" That's my last word, miss ; we all have to live, and I can't afford to keep pauper lodgers. The rent's due to-night, and you'll p.iy it or go." And the woman left the room, slamming the door with a bang. Chrissie Denning looked round the barren room. The rent must be paid to-night. But how ? She clasped her hands tightly—so tightly that the solitary ring she wore cut into the tender flesh, and with a cry the girl slipped the jewel from her linger, and regarded it with hopeless eyes. It wits a noticeable ring—one large opal, surrounded by diamonds and set in. a massive gold band. Her one priceless possession —must it go ? The battle was sharp but short. Raising the gem to her lips, she kissed it passionately, murmuring, "Forgive me, mother darling; it is my only hope !" Then donning her shabby black cloak and hat Chrissie went out into the deepening twilight, and sped swiftly towards the old curiosity shop. It was a month since Mrs Denning died —died, as the girl knew, for want of sufficient food. Her father had been kilted in a railway accident, leaving Chrissie and her mother a slender, dark-eyed Italian —with a miserable pittance. They had come to London, and found employment in providing fancy articles for one of the largo shops. But the mother's health gave way, and she sank beneath the load, leaving her daughter to light the battle alone. Their small earnings were soon spent. One by one their cherished possessions- were turned into money, but the opal Mrs Denning refused to part with. It had been her betrothal ring—a family jewel—and had never left her finger since her husband first placed it there. Her " Hope "' she called it; and gave it to Chrissie, enjoining her to keep it always.

And now the opal must was, indeed, her only " Hope " the girl thought sadly, as she gave the "em to the old curiosity man, and received a small sum of money in exchange.

" I hope to buy it back some day," she said. " Will you keep it for me I"

" Well, I'll keep it back a bit," the man replied ; " there's no great sale for such things." Chrissie left the shop, and bent her steps towards an agency where she had entered her name. The matron was busy with a lady, richly dressed, who was speaking with some agitation. ' I want some one at once. The doctors say she must go abroad immediately, and "—— She caught sight of the slight figure in shabby mourning, and stopped abruptly; then, moved by some impulse, she turned to Chrissie. " You are in search of employment. Will you come V

' Madame ' began the matron ; but the imperious lady silenced her by a gesture. 'Do you object to travel ? You have, perhaps, no friends to leave behind,' she said glancing at the girl's black garments. " I am distracted; we must Dave town tomorrow ! Only say you will come. I don't mind what I pay.' * But,' stammered the bewildered girl, ' you don't know me. You never saw me before.'

'I can trust your face, and I implore you, come and help me save my child. There were tears in the proud eyes, born of the thought of the delicate little daughter whose life hung on a thread. She took Chrissie's hands. ' You will come ?'

'Gladly,' returned the girl, ' and I will do my utmost to deserve your trust.'

Once again Chrissie stood in the old curiosity shop. Nine months had passed, during which she had travelled in many countries, and had endeared herself to her patron and her delicate charge. Now that they were settled in Mrs Chatteris's luxurious London house the girl took the first opportunity to go and redeem her precious ring. ' It's sold, miss.'

' But you promised to keep it.' ' I didn't promise to keep it against all offers,' he said. ' Someone took a fancy to it, so I let it go. How did 1 know you would come again ?'

Without a word Chrissie left the shop. Her lips trembled beneath the thick veil she wore, and the tears so blinded her that she ran almost into the arms of a man who was passing hastily down the crowded street.

'l—beg your pardon,'—she stammered.

Val Beverly was too startled to do more than raise his hat as the girl sped on, but tho momentary glimpse of those upraised, tear-wet eyes haunted him as he regained his comfortable chambers.

' What the deuce was she doing there, 1 wonder? She looked like a lady, though I hardly saw her face.'

His brows met in a perplexed frown ; then witli an effort he banished the vision.

' I'll go and look up Mrs Charteris,' he said, ' and see this paragon who had done more for Vera than all the doctors put together.'

A sound of music issued from Mrs Charteris's drawing room, and the young man paused as a loud contralto broke upon his ear. The door was sightly open, and he stood in the shadow, while that pathetic voice crept into his soul. Tho room was dimly lit, and he only caught a shadowy outline of the singer—a girl, with dark hair curling about a small, pale face—but that voice held him enthralled. Not until the song was ended and Mrs Charteris's voice broke the spell did he reveal himself.

'You, Val? This is delightful ! I knew you would socn come to welcome me back. Let mo introduce you to Miss Denning, Chrissie, that is Mr Beverly.'

Chrissie came forward with a smile on her lips, for Val Beverly's name was familiar to her ; but the smile faded when she saw his face. Would he recognise the girl who had run into his arms from the old curiosity shop? Suppose he should mention it before Mrs Charteris! Chrissie shivered at the thought, and withdrawing her gaze from Beverly's face, bowed coldly. 'My dear child, what a stony reception !' laughed Mrs Charteris, and talcing the girl's unwilling hand she placed it in Beverly's palm. ' You and Val know each other perfectly by repute, and are to be great friends. Shako hands at once.'

Chrissie laughed, but coloured, too, as Beverly pressed the irresponsive little, fingers warmly. ' 1 could almost believe we. had met before, .Miss Denning,' he said, ' but [ suppose that is impossible?' ' Quite.' Chrissie met his gaze steadily. 'We have never met before, Mr Beverly ' ' But we'll make up for lost tima now,' soliloquised Val as lie took his departure. ' Jove ! How jolly glad I am that I refused the girl the mater threw at my head and insisted on choosing my own wife. Tt's a blessed thing to be free ; then one can choose one's own gaoler."

" And that is all you know about her V Mrs Charteris nodded.

' Not much, is it V said she. ' Chrissie often wanted to tell me her story, but I saw that the past was painful, and her lovely, truthful face was enough for me.'

'lt is enough for me. I would trust my soul in that girl's keeping,' said Beverly earnestly. ' Has it gone so far 1 Are you sure you know your own mind, Val V

1 My mind was made up the first day I saw her,' said he. ' I only wait her will; she insists upon telling me her story first, but' ' You make sure it won't come between you V 'So sure that I came ready armed.'

He drew from his pocket a flashing gem and laid it on her small palm. * Opals 1 Oh, Yal, they arc unlucky.' 'Opals?' Beverly laughed. ' I showed you v he wrong one. But that is pretty, isn't it ?' ' "Where did you get it] It looks old.'

'lt is old; the setting shows that. I picked it up at an old curio shop. Gave lOgs for it—a mere song, for it is both antique and valuable.'

They were engrossed in their subject, and did not hear the door ODen softly. As Ohrissie entered her eyes caught the glitter of gold and the next moment her astonished gaze rested on the opal ring, Her opal! 'lt was left by a girl, quite young but very poor. The man told me,' continued Beverly, ' she hoped to redeem it some day. Poor child, I expect she's dead long ago, and perhaps better so.' ' Oh, look!' Mrs Charteris had touched a spring in the massive setting, and a piece of the ring slid back. ' See, Yal—a motto : ' Hope on, hope ever.' And initials too. It has been a betrothal ring ; they used to engrave them in olden days.'

Chrissie had drawn nearer ; twice she essayed to speak, and failed. But Mrs Charteris, looking up suddenly, saw the girl standing there. Her eyes were fastened on the gleaming opal, and her white lips escaped her friend's notice. ' Look, Chris. ' Isn't it lovely 1 Val has been telling me its story.' ' I heard.' Chrissie spoke with difficulty. ' A sad story, was it not ?'

' Sad ? Yes, too sad for your ears,' said Beverly. ' 1 expect you're right, Mrs Charteris, it is an old betrothal ring: but [with an involuntary glance at Chrissie] I could never offer it to my wife. The beautiful gem has probably a black mark against it.' ' A black mark !' Chrissie's white lips whispered tho words ; they ' A black mark !' How could she tell her story now? She met Beverly's eyes, and the misery on her face startled him. Of what was he reminded as he met that stricken gaze ? Like a flash it returned to him : the dark street, the dim old shop, and the slight, black figure blinded with grief, that stumbled into his arms.

1 Chrissie !' He started forward, but she moved away, and the anguish in her eyes turned to scorn.

' You remember?' she said. ' Yes, it was I you met. But there is no black mark against that ring, Mr Beverly, It was my mother's.' ' My* darling. How can I gain forgiveness ? Oh, Chrissie, to thinkthat you were ever in such poverty, and alone.'

' But it is over now/ she whispered. ' Mrs Charteris saved me then ; and you, Val, have you not given me back my ' Hope' ?' glancing at the beauteous gem on her finger. 'Do you know, I always used to wish that mother's betrothal ring might al«o some day be mine.'