“But they belong to you, Aunt Sylvia.”

Sylvia took up the most valuable thing there, a really good pearl necklace, and held it dangling from her skinny hand.  “I should look pretty with this around my neck, shouldn’t I?” she said.  “I wanted to wear that pink silk, but when it comes to some things I ain’t quite out of my mind.  Here, try it on.”

Rose clasped the necklace about her white, round throat, and smiled at herself in the glass.  Rose wore a gown of soft, green China silk, and the pearls over its lace collar surrounded her face with soft gleams of rose and green.

“These amethysts are exquisite,” said Rose, after she had done admiring herself.  She took up, one after another, a ring, a bracelet, a necklace, a brooch, and ear-rings, all of clear, pale amethysts in beautiful settings.

“You could wear these,” she said to Sylvia.

“I guess I sha’n’t begin to wear jewelry at my time of life,” declared Sylvia.  Her voice sounded almost angry in its insistence.  “Everything here is yours,” she said, and nodded her head and set her mouth hard for further emphasis.

The display upon the dressing-table, although not of great value, was in reality rather unusual.  All of the pieces were, of course, old, and there were more semi-precious than precious stones, but the settings were good and the whole enough to delight any girl.  Rose hung over them in ecstasy.  She had not many jewels.  Somehow her income had never seemed to admit of jewels.  She was pleased as a child.  Finally she hung some pearl ear-rings over her ears by bits of white silk, her ears not being pierced.  She allowed the pearl necklace to remain.  She clasped on her arms some charming cameo bracelets and a heavy gold one set with a miniature of a lady.  She covered her slender fingers with rings and pinned old brooches all over her bosom.  She fastened a pearl spray in her hair, and a heavy shell comb.  Then she fairly laughed out loud.  “There!” said she to Sylvia, and laughed again.

Sylvia also laughed, and her laugh had the ring of a child’s.  “Don’t you feel as if you were pretty well off as you are?” said she.

Rose sprang forward and hugged Sylvia.  “Well off!” said she.  “Well off!  I never knew a girl who was better off.  To think of my being here with you, and your being as good as a mother to me, and Uncle Henry as good as a father; and this dear old house; and to see myself fairly loaded down with jewels like a crown-princess.  I never knew I liked such things so much.  I am fairly ashamed.”

Rose kissed Sylvia with such vehemence that the elder woman started back, then she turned again to her mirror.  She held up her hands and made the gems flash with colored lights.  There were several very good diamonds, although not of modern cut; there was a fairly superb emerald, also pearls and amethysts and green-blue turquoises, on her hands.  Rose made a pounce upon a necklace of pink coral, and clasped it around her neck over the pearls.