The Comrade. (Winnfield, La.) 1890-1914, 1910-12-23

| clothes SO securely, she could dispose
upon herself the sapphire. How had
she arrived at this consideration? No
| course of reasoning led up to it. She
was annoyed with herself. If she
wasn't going to wear the ring on her
finger, and show it, why did she want
to take it with her at all? For fear
it might be lost? Lost in her jewel
box, in the back of the drawer. She
blushed for herself
Through the long afternoon it was
| more apparent to her than the faces
of the people around her. She was
restless to get back to it, but people
talked Unfortunately. At the luncheon
! they talked of Kerr. Flora knew these
girls felt little resentment that she
had SO easily captured Harry Cressy;
| for Harry had been more than an
eligible man in the little city He
had been an eligible parsonage. Not
that he had money; not that his fami-
ly tree was plainly planted in their
midst; but that without these two
things he had achieved what, with
these, the people he knew were all
striving for. He stood before them
as the embodiment Of what they most
believed Imperfect bodily splendor,
and perfect knowledge Of how to get
on in the world; and the fact that he
wouldn't quite be one of them, but
after five years still stood little Off
made him shine with greater bril-
lance, especially in the eyes of these
girls. 1t was hard, they seemed to
feel, that such an apparently remote
and difficult person should have sue
cumbed so easily; and now that new
luminary of equal luster was appar
ent in their sky, Flora felt their re-
marks a little triumphantly aimed at
her.
But between the thread of interest
the table group wove together, kept
flashing up her furtive desire to be
away, to be at home, to see what had
happened to the sapphire. Of course,
she knew that nothing could have hap
pened; but she wanted to look at it,
to open the casket and see the flash
of it before her eyes.
They were dining early that night
on account of the Buffers box party
but it was nearly eight o'clock before
Flora reached the house. And it was,
of course, for that reason that she ran
upstairs-ran wildly, regardlessly, be-
fore the eyes of Shima-and along the
hail, her high heels clacking on the
hard floors, and through her bedroom
to the dressing room, snatched open
the table drawer, unlocked the casket
with a twitch of the key-and, ah, it
was there! It was really real! Why,
what had she expected? She was
laughing at herself.
She was gay in her relief at getting
back to the sapphire, but at the same
time she was already wondering what
she should do about it that night
take it with her or leave it alone
Dared she wear it on her finger under
her glove? Clara might notice the
unfamiliar form of the jewel through
the thin kid. Flora watched her curl
ously across the table that evening,
wondering what was that quality of
her by which she acquired. Hitherto
Flora had accepted it as a fact with.
out question, but now she had desire
to place it. 1t was not beauty, for
Clara was pretty, like polished
Greuze, she was colorless and flavor
less, lacking the vivid heat Of mag
netism. More probably it consisted
in certain sort of sweetness Clara
; could produce on occasions, way she
had of looking and speaking which
Flora could only describe as smooth
She made up her mind to leave the
sapphire at home; but in her last
moment in her room the resolution
failed. Harry, of course, would be
angry if he knew, but Harry wouldn't
see the thing under her glove.
She came down to where Clara was
waiting for her, with the guilty feel,
ing of a child who has concealed a
contraband cake; but the way Clara
looked her over made her conscious
that she had not concealed her ex.
citement.