An Opal Ring

Author Unknown

Leopold Aston, with his happy blonde face and immense fortune, had brought a letter of introduction to Doctor Sherwood, of the Elms, and Doctor Sherwood had taken Leopold Aston by the hand and introduced him to his two pretty daughters.

Now it happened that the latter had never been thrown in the company of two pretty girls in domestic life, and he found the household habits and dainty white aprons of these young ladies very charming.

In the first dazzle of pleasure they looked to him very much alike, but by-and-by he found Arabella and Mildred Sherwood were very different.

He was to stay at the Elms during the summer. In the autumn he was going abroad.

"To England, to Germany, and to Italy," said Mildred.

"Yes, and to Paris," responded Arabella, and she shut her thin, scarlet lips over some resolve.

When Leopold came in from a fine, breezy walk by the river, Mildred was dusting the ornaments on the mantel, and Arabella was rearranging some flowers upon a table.

He came straight to the table.

"Stock-blue and lilac, and crimson and white gladioles. What superb flowers you have here at the Elms, Miss Arabella."'

"Do you think so? And do you like clove pinks? she asked, handing him one.

"If this concentration of the tropic is a clove pink, yes, I do."

"Then let me give you a button-hole bouquet," and, taking the pink from his hand, she twisted it with a bit of smilax, and fastened it in his button-hole.

And he, looking down, saw the curl of her black lashes, and took the fragrance of her breath.

In that instant, he decided there was a difference in the sisters. Arabella was prettier than Mildred.

"I am going into the garden for more vines for my vases. If you like to come I will show you my geraniums," said Arabella.

Leopold took up his hat, which he had laid down, and they went out in the sunshine.

Doctor Sherwood, reading upon the piazza, lifted his spectacles from his newspaper, then took them off and looked up.

"Arabella—perhaps a father is not the best judge—but Arabella, it seems to me, is a very attractive girl," he said to himself.

Meanwhile, Mildred had put away the duster and gone down into the kitchen to help her mother make florentines for tea.

"Mother," she said, absently, after a while, "I should like to go to Italy."

"Well, probably you never will, my dear. Beat those eggs a little longer."

At the tea-table a few hours later, Leopold Aston found that the eggs for the florentine had been beaten thoroughly.

"How nice!" Mildred heard him say to Arabella. "It seems to me that you can do everything."

Mildred was about to remark that Arabella never cooked, because it made her head ache, when something in her sister's looks checked her. She swallowed her tea, in momentary confusion, and rose from the table with a bewildering thought pressing upon her.

Cast it off as she would, it was a thought which persistently returned as the summer days went by. Mr. Aston seemed to find her sister very attractive.

Was it possible that this young man of fortune, with all the world before him where to choose, had fallen in love with Arabella— that he would wish to marry her?

She knew so well all the family affairs— how the Elms were mortgaged—how hard they all exerted themselves to keep up the appearance of prosperity and comfort. It would be a splendid thing for Arabella—for them all. But could it be. And then—Adam Neele!

One night, when Arabella's voice, singing to Leopold in the parlor, came down the stairs, the Doctor remarked:

"It seems to me that Arabella spends all her evenings with Mr. Aston."

"Well, let her, if she likes. I'm sure his company is agreeable," returned his wife.

But something in her tone prevented the doctor from saying more He unfolded the evening paper thoughtfully, and held it upside down for several moments.

Mildred's quick glance went from one face to another. She thought of the mortgage; the knew her mother and father were thinking of it, too. But she went on silently shelling peas. She had taken the dish from her mothers tired hands a few moments before.

Pretty soon Arabella danced by the door up to her chamber. A moment later Leopold came out upon the piazza and lighted a cigar. Pretty soon he saw Mrs. Sherwood's lavender cap-ribbons, and came to the dining-room window.

"Mrs. Sherwood, l am called to New York for a day or two. I shall be off before you are well astir in the morning."

"But, Mr. Aston, you will want your breakfast?"

"No! I shall take breakfast on the boat."

He turned and went down into the garden.

"Rebecca," said the doctor, somewhat uneasily to his wife," Adam Neele is coming here to-morrow. He promised to come and show me about the under-draining for next year."

"Well?" said Mrs. Sherwood, after a pause.

"Her tone said, "We shall see what will happen then."

No one noticed the rosy flush which darted like a flame along Mildred's cool cheeks and her white fingertips when Leopold Aston, with his handsome presence and mellow voice, came suddenly so near her. It was too dark. She had not looked up, and did not see the quiet attention with which he observed her small, busy fingers and bowed brown head.

The next day Adam Neele came, and Arabella was confined to her room all day with a conventional sick headache, and saw no one.

He was a grave, brown-bearded man of nearly forty—honesty, goodness was stamped in every line of his plain face. He was the best farmer in the country, and owned the model farm of the township.

"Arabella?" he said questioningly, of Mildred, when they were for a moment alone.

"She—she is sick to-day," Mildred answered; but her truthful eyes dropped, and he saw it.

"Ask her if she cannot see me for a few moments," he said.

Mildred went up stairs. Arabella lay upon the bed, one arm thrown up, upon the hand of which was a beautiful opal-ring Mildred had never seen before.

"Where did you get that lovely ring, Ara?"

"From Mr. Aston," Arabella said, quietly.

She did not seem sick, and did not speak again. A tremor ran through Mildred's delicate limbs. She rested a hand upon a chair to steady herself.

"Will you come down and see Mr. Neele, Ara? He wishes it."

"No! make my excuses."

Mildred went dizzily out of the chamber. She was not quite herself when she entered the room where Adam Neele was.

"She wishes to be excused."

"Mildred, this rich German—"

"He is not a German."

"Is he anything to Arabella?"

"I do not know. He has given her a ring," stammered Mildred, scarcely knowing what she said.

"Humph! That is enough."

Adam Neele went away from the Elms the next morning. When he had gone, Arabella came down and ate her dinner.

She took a book and sauntered down into the garden then. When Mildred had coaxed her mother to take a nap, she followed her sister, and cut gladioles and pinks for the vases, which Arabella had neglected entirely for two days.

When she came around to the arbor where her sister sat, she sat down wearily.

"Adam Neele has gone, Ara."

"I know it."

"Then you prefer Mr. Aston?"

"I prefer marrying a rich man and going abroad to marrying a poor man and spending my life at Edgetown."

"But you love Mr. Aston, Ara."

"Love him? Pooh! He is just a good-natured simpleton. Adam Neele is just worth two of him. But I shall marry him if I can. I have meant it ever since he first came here."

Mildred gave a little cry.

"I don't love Adam Neele, either. But I'm sick of work and striving to keep up appearances. We shall go to pieces soon at this rate. Papa earns nothing. The mortgage will take the Elms. I am going to look out for myself I would advise you to do the same, Milly."

"I shall look out for myself. I can earn my living if need be. Earn it I will. I shall never degrade myself by marrying for a home—or for money. Ara, I had rather have my hand burn off than wear that ring as you now wear it."

There was a step upon the gravel, a putting aside of the clementis vine.

"My ring! Have you found it, Miss Arabella?"

Arabella grew red, then white. She pulled the ring from her finger, and handed it to it owner, Leopold Aston.

"Where did you find it?" he asked.

"At the end of the linden path," she answered, in a stifled voice. Then, partially recovering herself: "You are back soon."

"Yes," pleasantly.

He had his valise in his hand. he had just come over from the depot, and went up to his room.

Burning with her sister's shame, yet with a strange joy in her heart, Mildred turned and went away from the arbor. She buried her face among the pinks.

"How sweet they are," she said.

Arabella was not in the parlor that evening. The house was strangely still.

"Are we never going to have any more music?" asked the doctor. "Milly, go up and play something lively."

"When I have finished picking over these blackberries, papa."

The twilight overtook the nimble fingers, and Mildred took the pile of jetty fruit out upon the doorstep, under the porch honeysuckle.

"Are you always at work?" asked a gentle voice.

There was no pained blush now. Mildred looked up, calm and sweet.

"No, I am at leisure now," she answered, in a moment.

"Then will you walk down this path with me a little way?"

He took a soft gray shawl from its peg, and wrapped it around her. As he did so, she saw the gleam of the opal.

"Do you like my ring?' asked Leopold Aston.

"It is the most beautiful opal I ever saw."

"I lost it in the garden the first time I came to the Elms. Do you know the properties which inhere in gems?"

"No."

"The ruby restrains wrath, the hyacinth procures sleep, the topaz banishes sadness."

"And the opal?"

"The opal sharpens the sight of the possessor. Mildred—little Milly—do you think I do not know what a jewel beyond price you are? Darling, look up! I love you! Could you love me. Mildred?"

She looked up into his eyes.

"Yes, I could love you if you were the poorest, the most unfortunate man in the world."

"God bless my brave darling," he cried.

They had reached the end of the long, sweet, dewy path, and turned to come back.

"And you promise to be my wife? Let there be no mistake. Let me be happy, Mildred."

"I promise. But, Leopold, I thought it was Arabella whom you loved."

"You did. Well, I had lost my ring then, and, being without its aid, was a little stupid, he replied, with a slight blush.

And so Mildred went to Italy, and Arabella remained at Edgetown, for Adam Neele never came back to her.

Warragul Guardian and Buln Buln and Narracan Shire Advocate, Thursday 21 October 1880, supplement page 2