"don't do anything rash! A bit of lace. A little money to buy herself something pretty. But not—not" She caught her grandmother's hands in hers and drew the jewelled fingers against her own plump breast.
"Mama," said Ernest, "this excitement is very bad for you."
"Bring the backgammon board," said Nicholas. "She likes a game of backgammon after tea."
"I've not finished my tea," rapped out his mother. "I want cake. Not that white wishy-washy cake. Fruit cake."
Never was fruit cake so swiftly, so passionately, produced. She selected a piece, laid it on her plate, and, as though there had been no interruption, again spread out her hands, palms downward.
She shot a glance at Meg, kneeling by her side.
"Get up, Meggie," she said, brusquely but not unkindly. "You've nothing to be humble about." But Meg still knelt, her hands to her breast, her eyes jealously guarding the rings.
With a decisive movement, Adeline removed from the third finger of her right hand the ring of glowing rubies. She took the girl's thin brown hand in hers and put it on her middle finger. She looked up into her face, smiling. "Give you colour, my dear. Give you heart. Nothing like a ruby. . . . I'll try some of that pale cake now."
Pheasant stood transfixed, reverently holding the brilliantly decorated hand in the hand that wore only her wedding ring. Her eyes were starry.
"Oh," she half-whispered, "how lovely! What beauties! Oh, you darling Gran!"
Piers was at her side, sturdy, defiant, all aglow.
"Splendid!" exclaimed Renny. "Let me see how it looks on your little paw!"
But Wakefield intervened, took her hand, and fluttered his long lashes, examining the stones. He said, judicially: "You've got a fine ring there, my girl. I hope you take care of it."
