It was dear of Philip to let me wear the pearls tonight, and quite right, Mr. Kendall, of you to ask for their return.
Here they are.”
She raised her hands and unfastened them from her neck.
“No,” I said, “why the devil should you do so?”
“Please, Philip,” she said.
She took off the collar and gave it to my godfather.
He had the grace to look uncomfortable, yet relieved too.
I saw Louise look at me with pity.
I turned away.
“Thank you, Mrs. Ashley,” said my godfather in his gruff way.
“You understand that this collar is really part of the estate trust, and Philip had no business to take it from the bank.
It was a foolish, thoughtless action.
But young men are headstrong.”
“I perfectly understand,” she said, “let us say no more about it.
Do you need wrapping for it?”
“Thank you, no,” he answered, “my handkerchief will do.”
He took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and placed the collar in the middle of it, with great care.
“And now,” he said, “I think that Louise and I will say good night.
Thank you for a delightful and successful dinner, Philip, and I wish you both a happy Christmas.”
I did not answer.
I went out into the hall, and stood by the front door, and handed Louise into the carriage without a word.
She pressed my hand in sign of sympathy, but I was too much moved to answer her.
My godfather climbed in beside her, and they went away.
I walked slowly back to the drawing room.
Rachel was standing there, gazing down into the fire.
Her neck seemed naked without the collar.
I stood looking at her without speaking, angry, miserable.
At sight of me she put out her arms and I went to her. My heart was too full to speak.
I felt like a little lad of ten years old, and it would not have taken much to make me cry.
“No,” she said, her voice tender with the warmth that was so much part of her, “you must not mind.
Please, Philip, please.
I am so proud to have worn it for that once.”
“I wanted you to wear it,” I said, “I wanted you to keep it always.
God damn him, and send him to hell.”
“Hush,” she said, “dear, don’t say those things.”
I was so bitter and angry I could have ridden to the bank upon the instant, and gone to the vaults, and brought back every piece of jewelry there, every stone, every gem, and given them to her, and all the gold and silver in the bank as well.
I could have given her the world.
“Well, it’s spoiled now,” I said, “the whole evening, the whole of Christmas.
Everything is wasted.”
She held me close, and laughed.
“You are like a child,” she said, “running to me with empty hands.
Poor Philip.”
I stood away, and looked down upon her.
“I am no child,” I said,
“I am five-and-twenty years, all but three blasted months.
My mother wore those pearls on her wedding day, and before that my aunt, and before that my grandmother.
Don’t you realize why I wanted you to wear them too?”
She put her hands on my shoulders, and kissed me once again.
“Why, yes,” she answered, “that was why I was so happy, and so proud.
You wanted me to wear them because you knew that had I been married here, and not in Florence, Ambrose would have given them to me on our wedding day.”