Adventure, December 1914 — page 140: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

138 “T’m afraid that chicken was overdone; I left it a little too long.” ““Overdone?”’ He echoed her word. “Miss Dennis, I thought how perfectly it was cooked. I do not remember to have enjoyed a chicken more.” She glanced at him almost roguishly as she placed the crumb scoop on the tray. “It’s very nice to have a person like you in the house, Mr. Adair.” “‘That’s good hearing.”’ “You are so easily pleased. You must know how things ought to be done, and how far I fall short of any decent standard, yet you pretend that I’m a paragon. You never complain; no matter what a mess I make of a thing, you always praise it. As I said, it is very nice to have a person like you in the house, but—sometimes I rather wish that you were a little more sincere.” “Sincere? Where you are concerned, to the best of my knowledge and belief I’ve been the soul of sincerity from the first mo- ment I saw you until now.” “Why couldn’t you say then that the chicken was overdone—when it was dried almost to a cinder?” “I believe that on the subject of under- done and overdone tastes differ.” She interrupted him. “IT know what you’re going to say.” Re- moving the tablecloth, she began to fold it up. He interposed— “TI wish you’d let me help you to do that. Folding that great tablecloth is too much for one person; it fidgets me to watch you doing it.” She looked at him over the edge. “I’m sorry to hear that it fidgets you; I had no idea it did that. Henceforward I will fold it up outside.”” She prepared to de- part with the folded tablecloth over her arm; then something suddenly occurred to her. ‘By the way, did you notice if I left my brooch anywhere about the room?” The fingers of one hand were at that mo- ment fastened about the article to which she referred. He took it out of his pocket. “You left it on the table when you went out of the room.” He held it out to her. “Thank you. I was wondering where I had left it. I don’t often wear a brooch, but I had a visitor this afternoon and I put it on in her honor.” Placing the brooch upon her tray, she Adventure was again about to leave the room when he stopped her. “I don’t wish to seem curious, and I assure you I have no intention to be im- pertinent; but may I ask where you got that brooch from?” Turning, she looked at him with surprise. “Some one gave it to me.” “Indeed? Still believe that I don’t wish to pry into what does not concern me; but I can’t help wondering how it came into the possession of the person who gave it to ou.” The girl’s face changed; the jaw seemed to grow squarer, the expression harder, a glitter came into her eyes. “That I’m afraid I can’t tell you. May I ask why you wonder? Is there anything ta the brooch which is very remarka- le?” “Only that it was once my mother’s.” For an instant or two it seemed that the girl failed to catch his meaning; then a flush came into her cheeks, only to die away. “Mr. Adair! Do you really mean that this—this brooch of mine was once your mother’s? How can you tell.” “Tt doubt if it is so commonplace as you appear to imagine. The stone is a peridot or chrysolite, as perhaps you know.” “T didn’t know; I wondered what it was.”’ “Didn’t the person who gave it to you tell you what it was?” “No. He told me nothing.” “T believe you'll find that the peridot is an unusually fine example. The small stone in the center is of course a pearl. Do you mind, Miss Dennis, taking the brooch in your hand and pressing the pearl? Press it hard with your thumb.” Putting the tray on the table she did as he requested. Suddenly she exclaimed, as if startled: ‘“‘Why, what’s happened? The back has come open; there’s a miniature of a man inside.” | ‘““Miss Dennis, that man is my father. The miniature was done by Sir Thomas Lawrence; it was one of the few he did. I have always understood that my father gave it to my mother before they were married. ‘‘When I was quite young I often remem- ber seeing my mother wear it, although it was already old-fashioned. It was always one of her most valued possessions. She remained very fond of my father till the day cConnicloo@olk< (©