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 AUG 0 2 iSi i 
 
 L161— 0-1096 
 
THE RUBIES OF ST. LO 
 
 1 
 
The 
 
 Rubies of St. L 
 
 CHARLOTTE M. YONGE 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE,' ETC. 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 AND NEW YORK 
 1894 
 
 AZl rights reserz>ed 
 
yf- ■ 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 It may be interesting to know that a 
 necklace exists, in which every ancestress 
 appears in her portrait for several genera- 
 tions. Then it was lost, but found at 
 last by a young bride, in a secret cup- 
 board in the wainscot, brought to light 
 by the village carpenter. 
 
 C. M. YONGE. 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 *The Manor, Northam', St. Lo, 
 ' \Qth October 1889. 
 
 * My dear Madam — I am desirous of 
 making acquaintance with some of your 
 family, and should be much obliged if 
 you would entrust your eldest daughter 
 to me for a visit of some duration. If 
 it would be convenient to send her on 
 Tuesday, the 1 7th, by the train leaving 
 Wallbridge at 10.50, she would reach 
 the Euston Station at 2.15, where my 
 maid would meet her, and bring her 
 to the Northam Station at 5.10. Allow 
 me to enclose a note for travelling and 
 other expenses. — I remain, etc., 
 
 ' T. E. F. St. Lo.' 
 
 This was the letter that produced 
 great agitation in a little parlour in a 
 
 ^ I B 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 dull, deserted-looking, but rather 'gen- 
 teel' street in a small country town. 
 There was a white-faced girl of fourteen 
 lying on a couch ; a tall, rosy, lively, 
 long-haired creature of twelve, in short 
 petticoats, dangling her hat ; an elder 
 one of about nineteen standing by the 
 window, with a thoughtful expression 
 on her somewhat grave, well-moulded 
 face ; and, in a chair by the couch, the 
 mother, with a thin face, sometimes 
 looking quite young, sometimes prema- 
 turely old, and bearing traces of care, 
 ill-health, and climate. 
 
 ' Twenty pounds ! Oh, dear ! ' she 
 cried, as she unfolded the note. 
 
 ' It's like buying me,' said the girl in 
 question. 
 
 ' Nonsense, Theresa ! It is her kind- 
 ness,' said the mother. ' You will be 
 late for school, Cora. Run away ! ' 
 
 ' Horrid ! ' returned Cora. ' But Katie 
 will tell me all about it, that's one com- 
 fort.' 
 
 ' I suppose I am purchased,' sighed 
 Theresa. 
 
 ' Do you really think so ? ' said Katie, 
 with her eyes swimming in tears. 
 2 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ' I hope she will be liberal/ said the 
 mother. ' This looks like it/ 
 
 * Oh, if she would only send Cora to 
 a real good school, and give Katie a 
 donkey-chair ! ' cried Theresa. 
 
 ' I don't care for the donkey- chair 
 without you, Terry,' said Katie, fretfully. 
 
 ' We might have a few drives now, 
 out of my money for lessons,' said 
 Theresa, ' with all this in hand. Oh ! 
 would it be honest, I wonder, for Cora 
 to have a new frock ? ' 
 
 ' Miss St. Lo would never ask how 
 you spent it,' said the mother, 'if you 
 came with a proper outfit.' 
 
 ' But would it be fair ? ' said Theresa. 
 
 ' I'm sure you wouldn't wish to be 
 selfish, my dear,' said Mrs. St. Lo, a 
 little American twang becoming more 
 apparent. 
 
 ' I don't mean to be selfish ! Oh no, 
 no, mamma ; but I must be honest.' 
 
 ' Why don't you send it back at once.^' 
 cried Kate, energetically, ' and say you 
 don't want her money, and won't be like 
 the poor companions in books, worse 
 than slaves.' 
 
 ' No, no,' said the mother, * that would 
 3 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 not do, Katie. A great deal may depend 
 on not offending Miss St. Lo.' 
 
 * What makes her take us up now/ 
 demanded Katie, ' after all these years, 
 and when you never asked her for any- 
 thing } You haven't, mother ? ' 
 
 ' No, certainly not ! ' was the reply. 
 ' I don't know why she begins now, 
 though indeed any opening for Theresa 
 is acceptable, since things have gone so 
 badly with us.' 
 
 ' I think I can guess,' said Theresa ; 
 ' there was a lady staying at Mrs. Carter's 
 when I was teaching her little boys. She 
 was struck by my name, and asked 
 whether we were related to old Sir Roland 
 St. Lo of Northam, and said she knew 
 Miss St. Lo, and the Manor, which, she 
 said, was a most curious old place. She 
 was very kind and friendly, and seemed 
 interested about us. I think she must 
 have told Miss St. Lo.' 
 
 ' If Miss St. Lo chooses to ask you, 
 you cannot decline,' said the mother. 
 ' Relations as we are, we cannot refuse, 
 and who knows what may not be the 
 consequence? Your poor father was 
 the only one of the same name ! I really 
 4 
 
J'he Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 don't know whether he might not have 
 been Sir Henry himself, or your poor 
 little brothers.' 
 
 It was true that Mrs. St. Lo's husband 
 had belonged to a distant branch of the 
 same family — a very old Norman race. 
 Henry St. Lo had been the only son of 
 a very poor curate, and had struggled 
 into employment as an engineer, em- 
 ployed by a company which undertook 
 works in various parts of the world. 
 He had been married to an American 
 lady at Rio de Janeiro, and his children 
 had been born and died in many distant 
 regions, before he was recalled to fill a 
 good appointment at Wallbridge, but he 
 had not been there for many months 
 before he met his death by an accident. 
 Only the three girls survived, and poor 
 Katharine had become a permanent invalid 
 from injury to the spine in a fall through 
 a hatchway on the homeward voyage. 
 During the father's lifetime the family 
 had been in comfortable circumstances, 
 and he had invested his savings in shares 
 in the Company. A sum of money had 
 likewise been awarded in compensation to 
 the widow, and this she had likewise 
 5 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 placed in the same investment, but in the 
 five years which had since ensued, the 
 affairs of the Company had become 
 much less prosperous. Mrs. St. Lo had 
 sold out in time to prevent utter loss 
 and destitution, but she was very much 
 impoverished. She had left her New 
 England home very young, and knew of 
 no living connections there, nor had she 
 the means to return, so she continued to 
 live at Wallbridge within reach of the 
 few friends who had become interested 
 in her. As the difficulties increased, 
 Theresa, who was a determined and sen- 
 sible girl, felt that she must do some- 
 thing to eke out the family means, 
 though her education had been too 
 desultory and imperfect to bring her 
 up to modern requirements as a teacher. 
 She had, however, found employment 
 for the last two years as daily governess 
 to very small children. The setting up 
 of a Kindergarten threatened to deprive 
 her of this resource, and she was endeav- 
 ouring to save enough to obtain lessons 
 in the system so as to enable her to be- 
 come an assistant, when this letter from 
 Miss St. Lo arrived. 
 
 6 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 To poor Katie it was a great blow. 
 Theresa's leisure hours were her happy 
 ones, and for her sake her sister would 
 almost have refused the invitation, but 
 that it would have been folly to decline 
 an advance in utter ignorance of how 
 much it meant ; and if the rich relation 
 intended to put any opportunities of 
 earning a livelihood in her way, it was 
 not right to reject them, if only for the 
 sake of enabling little Cora to obtain a 
 superior education. 
 
 So a letter of acceptance was written, 
 and Theresa spent her own scanty earn- 
 ings in brightening Cora's wardrobe, and 
 adding to Kate's small library, though her 
 conscience still would not allow her to 
 spend Miss St. Lo's remittance otherwise 
 than as it was designed. 
 
 ' But,' said she, ' I have nearly five 
 pounds still left after the journey. If 
 she is nice, perhaps I can ask her to let 
 me send it home.' 
 
 * And if she is horrid ^ ' said Cora. 
 
 * If she is horrid, she won't like me, 
 and I shall get home again.' 
 
 ' I know she'll be a horrid old frump, 
 and will like you and keep you, and 
 7 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 make you a slave and a souffre douleur^ 
 groaned Katie, ' and that will be worst 
 of all ! ' 
 
 ' And/ said her mother, ' don't you 
 be going and upsetting everything with 
 your absurd outspoken ways/ 
 
 ' I am not going to toady and be false,' 
 said Theresa. 
 
 'As if I asked you to be ! ' said Mrs. 
 St. Lo. ' Only to be a little rational 
 and prudent. You might be getting 
 thirty pounds a year now from Mrs. 
 Long if you hadn't gone and told her 
 her children were odious little monkeys.' 
 
 ' No, no, mamma, that was not what 
 I said. I told her they were undisci- 
 plined and mischievous, and needed a 
 firm hand ; and that was true ! ' 
 
 ' But you need not have told her so. 
 Then you must needs tell Mrs. Brown 
 that though you could speak French, you 
 don't know it grammatically. As if she 
 would find out ! ' 
 
 ' So much the more reason to be honest 
 with her.' 
 
 ' And then you thought proper to tell 
 Mrs. Carter, who really liked you and 
 would have kept you on, that Jemmy 
 8 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 had no ear, and you did not know Latin 
 so as to prepare him for school.' 
 ' Well, I didn't; 
 
 ^ Then you chose to affront Mrs. 
 Tozer by telling her that her screens 
 were in bad taste.' 
 
 * They were hideous, and when she 
 asked me to admire those broken-necked 
 storks, what could I say ? ' 
 
 ' Well, I only know if you go on 
 cutting your own throat in that way, I 
 don't see what is to become of us ! ' 
 
 9 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 * To help mother and Kate and Cora ! 
 Oh, may I recollect it if she is old 
 and tiresome ! Keep me good and 
 patient, and true and faithful ! ' That 
 was Theresa's unuttered prayer all through 
 the journey. 
 
 A pleasant, civil, elderly maid met 
 her at the London station ; rather a 
 needless precaution, she said to herself, 
 for one who had seen so much of the 
 world in all sorts of conveyances. Yet 
 it was comfortable to be looked after ; 
 to have no jostling and providing for 
 herself, since there was no Katie to be 
 helped, and when she found herself in a 
 first-class carriage, she felt, in her sleepi- 
 ness, as if she were dreaming. 
 
 It was still light when she reached the 
 
 lO 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 little Northam station, where a brougham 
 was waiting; and thence the drive 
 through a land of meadows was not long 
 to an arched gateway. Theresa was 
 surprised to find how near the road the 
 Manor House lay, only separated from 
 it by a very short double avenue of 
 elms, where the rooks were cawing so 
 vehemently as to overcome the sound 
 of the wheels. She could only for a 
 moment see the long flat outline of the 
 front of the house, before the carriage 
 had stopped at a deep porch, whence in 
 the deepening twilight there issued a 
 flood of light, and in another moment 
 her hand was in a warm clasp, a kiss 
 was on her cheek, and with some kind 
 words about her being cold, she was led 
 into a long, low room glowing with a 
 bright fire, and with a shaded lamp. 
 
 It was not what she had expected. 
 Miss St. Lo was not an infirm old 
 passive lady in the chimney-corner, but 
 slim and active, with a quick, ready 
 step, and lively eyes ; and there was a 
 girl in the room of about her own age, 
 who was named to her as ^your cousin, 
 Alice Tresham,' and who kissed her, 
 1 1 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 while Miss St. Lo went on : ' You are 
 Theresa, are you not ? — our old family 
 name/ 
 
 Presently they took her up a very 
 slippery stair to a room which seemed to 
 her wonderfully delightful and luxurious 
 — all brown wainscot around, reflecting 
 the glow of the fire in every panel, and with 
 comfortable snug crimson draperies, and 
 chair and little round table by the fire. 
 
 She cried out with delight, and then 
 thought of the contrast with poor Katie's 
 bare, shabby chamber, where, however, 
 they had been very happy and merry 
 together. Perhaps Alice Tresham di- 
 vined that the place would feel lonely, 
 for she said : ' I am close by. See, all 
 the rooms open one into the other in this 
 funny old house. Here is mine. You 
 may lock me out if you please.' 
 
 She unlocked a brown door, which led 
 to another through the thick partition, 
 opening into just such another little 
 bedroom, only blue as to the furniture 
 instead of crimson, and of course with 
 more tokens of habitation. 
 
 * This is always my room when I am 
 here,' said Alice. ' I keep some of my 
 
 12 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 things here, my drawing, and some of 
 my books, which I never have time for 
 at home. Come and call me if you want 
 anything ; and shall I come and fetch 
 you when it is time to go down ? Oh ! 
 by the bye, the post won't go for an 
 hour, if you like to send a card to say 
 you are safe.' 
 
 Theresa did like, and longed to add, 
 ^ All so kind,' but felt too shy to do 
 so openly, and besides, it looked like, to 
 her mind, trying to recommend herself. 
 
 All the evening she was more and 
 more convinced that it would be a kind, 
 considerate house, though there was a 
 mixture of simple habits and high-bred 
 customs that somewhat astonished and 
 sometimes puzzled her. There was the 
 'high tea,' evidently after an early 
 dinner, which people at Wallbridge 
 thought an utter token of inferiority, 
 and yet there was the butler waiting, 
 and there were the little observances, 
 the multiplicity of appliances which 
 Theresa had heard of, or seen from a 
 respectful distance, but which here were 
 matters of course and daily life. 
 
 She found out gradually that Alice 
 13 
 
The Rubies of Sl Lo 
 
 was the daughter of Miss St. Lo's only 
 sister, and the eldest daughter of a large 
 family, much wanted at home. 
 
 When they went into the drawing- 
 room. Miss St. Lo said : — 
 
 * Now, my dear, you will see how we 
 spend our quiet evenings, and how 
 Alice is eyes to me. You must be tired 
 — so ! ' 
 
 And she deposited Theresa in a low 
 easy-chair, in spite of some slight remon- 
 strance about work, and settled herself 
 with some knitting, while Alice went to 
 the piano, and played and sang with evi- 
 dently much good understanding and 
 taste for half an hour, when she came 
 back to the table, took her place where 
 the lamp shade permitted light, and 
 Theresa was asked whether she had read 
 the book in hand, a number of the 
 Qiuarterly. Of course she had not, 
 and, declaring herself rested, she was 
 allowed to take up her work, and Alice 
 read till a big bell sounded, and they all 
 rose up. In the hall Alice put a knitted 
 shawl round her aunt, and another on 
 Theresa, saying, ' Yes, it is cold, but so 
 nice' ; and presently they were in a little 
 14 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 old oratory, all dark, carved wood like 
 the rest, but with a coloured glass win- 
 dow which looked strange and mysterious 
 between the lights within and the rising 
 moon outside. Here men and maids 
 were drawn up, and Miss St. Lo read 
 prayers. Somehow there was something 
 in the chill, the quiet, the solemnity of 
 the place which impressed the stranger 
 more than all the rest with a feeling 
 partly of something weird and strange, 
 partly of peace and soothing, and she 
 felt far less on the defensive or offensive 
 than she had expected. Her outlook in 
 the morning was over a balustrade into 
 a little quadrangle with a paved path 
 round it, and turf within, a big, old- 
 fashioned well in the centre. It was 
 earlier than she had expected grandees 
 to get up, but having been forewarned, 
 besides having a card of household hours 
 on her mantelpiece, she was quite ready, 
 in her new blue serge, by the time the 
 great clock chimed, the big bell began 
 to ring, and Alice knocked to escort her 
 down again to the chapel. 
 
 Things revealed themselves to her, 
 she hardly knew how. Miss St. Lo and 
 
 15 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 her younger sister were the co-heiresses 
 of the Northam Manor estate, but Mrs. 
 Tresham had been for many years the 
 wife of a clergyman, now an Archdeacon, 
 while Miss St. Lo had watched over her 
 father, who had lived to a great age. 
 Since his death she had continued to 
 reign over the estate, being in fact, by 
 his will, much in the position of an 
 eldest son, though it was understood 
 that on her death the property would 
 pass to her nephew, Roland Tresham, 
 a young man two years older than Alice, 
 and now at Aldershot with his regiment. 
 
 There were four younger ones in the 
 family, and as ' Aunt Terry's ' eyes had 
 of late been failing her, though they 
 were still so bright and lively, Alice had 
 been much with her. Now, however, 
 the Archdeacon was going into residence 
 at the cathedral town, and her mother 
 could not dispense with the help of her 
 ' come out ' daughter in the chapter 
 society. So Alice was recalled, and her 
 brother was coming in a few days' time 
 to escort her home. It was, as Theresa 
 had guessed, from the mention of the 
 visitor at Wallbridge that Miss St. Lo 
 i6 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 had become fully aware of the circum- 
 stances of the family of Henry St. Lo. 
 She remembered that her father had 
 spoken of his existence, and of having 
 heard from him some years previously, 
 but Sir Roland had then been very in- 
 firm, with frequent lapses of memory, 
 and she did not know whether the letter 
 had been answered. She had felt it her 
 duty to take some notice of these rela- 
 tions, and to see whether Theresa, de- 
 scribed as a nice, good girl, could take 
 Alice's place. 
 
 17 
 
 c 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 The two girls, Alice and Theresa, soon 
 had a cousin-like feeling of friendship, 
 and the former had made known to the 
 other that the pity of one's life was that 
 one couldn't be in two places at once, or 
 at least move about like Beauty, uncon- 
 sciously, in the night. 
 
 ' It's horrid to leave Aunt Terry, and 
 it is horrid to go away from home ! ' she 
 said. ' I know mother does want me 
 so, and will do too much without me.' 
 
 ' And if I could but fly home and 
 cheer up Katie,' responded Theresa, ' and 
 see that Cora does her exercises.' 
 
 Then they confided to each other the 
 descriptions of their younger sisters, 
 ending with Theresa's consulting Alice 
 whether Miss St. Lo would ' mind ' her 
 i8 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 bestowing the remainder of the sum sent 
 for her outfit on Cora's needful music 
 lessons and Katie's drives. 
 
 ' I am sure she would not/ said Alice. 
 
 ' Only it does not seem fair without her 
 knowing,' said Theresa ; ' and I can't 
 bear asking her, it seems so like begging.' 
 
 ' I'll tell her, if you do not like to do 
 so,' said Alice. ' How much is it ' 
 
 So kindly was it said that it checked 
 the ^ I'd rather manage for myself.' 
 
 ' Four pounds eighteen. I had ter- 
 ribly much to get, and things do run up 
 so,' said Theresa, apologetically. 
 
 ^ And you have made yourself look so 
 nice on fifteen pounds ! ' exclaimed the 
 Archdeacon's daughter. ' Well ! ' 
 
 Just then in came Miss St. Lo, 
 equipped for the village, in a big straw 
 hat, and basket on arm. 
 
 ' Suppose you take Theresa round the 
 house and garden, my dear,' she said ; 
 ' there will be just time for her to learn 
 her way about before service. She will 
 think she never saw such an odd old 
 place.' 
 
 ' No, indeed ; nor such a dear one ! ' 
 said Alice. ^ Church is at eleven on 
 
 19 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Wednesdays and Fridays, so we have 
 plenty of time.' 
 
 Alice, by some practice in visitors, had 
 arrived at judging of their good taste, 
 intelligence, or antiquarianism by the 
 way in which they looked at the Manor, 
 and she soon saw that, though Theresa 
 had none of the last, she had plenty of 
 the two former, and was thoroughly in- 
 terested and comprehending. 
 
 It was really a very curious remnant 
 of the old mansion, capable of defence, 
 and, though altered and modified, the 
 main features were still traceable. The 
 gateway through which Theresa had 
 entered was in a wall thick and deep 
 enough to hold a little porter's lodge, 
 wherein dwelt a superannuated house- 
 maid, just capable of attending to the 
 gate. On either side, enclosing the 
 grounds, was a stout wall of gray stone. 
 There had been a moat, but this had dis- 
 appeared, except on the side given up to 
 the stable-yard. The other two sides 
 contained, between them and the house, 
 walled gardens, each partitioned off — 
 one kitchen, the other pleasure-ground, 
 with a sunny lawn, where the trees were 
 20 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 slowly dropping golden leaves, and rows 
 of chrysanthemums in pots were blossom- 
 ing. A little church, with a deep-tiled 
 roof, taller than its walls, and a squat 
 tower, was in mediasval fashion close by, 
 and the wall towards it was much lower 
 than the rest, admitting southern sun- 
 shine freely to the sitting-rooms, whose 
 large sash windows and one glass door, 
 in defiance of all architecture, looked 
 out on it, protected from blasts by the 
 creeper-covered divisions between it and 
 the other court-like gardens. The fourth 
 side was the entrance, and had a pad- 
 dock, where a pony was turned out. 
 
 ' Yes,' said Alice, looking at the win- 
 dows and their sunshine, ' putting them 
 in was spoiling a good deal of antiquity ; 
 very naughty in my grandmother, I sup- 
 pose ; but it is all the pleasanter to live in.' 
 
 ' The house is low in proportion to the 
 height,' said Theresa. 
 
 'That is because it is built round a 
 court,' said Alice, ' like old colleges.' 
 
 ' I see. The convent I went to school 
 at for a little while in Belgium had a 
 quadrangle like that, with a cloister 
 round/ 
 
 21 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 * Exactly ; it is the old way. Most of 
 the available windows and doors used to 
 be into the court. There' — as Alice 
 led her through a passage out into the 
 green court — ^ you see both the staircases 
 were in the open air, going up to that^ 
 gallery, which runs round two sides. 
 That one, with only one door and a 
 window or two, belongs to the stables, 
 and the men don't come in that way; 
 the other is where the kitchen and offices 
 are.' 
 
 ^ We didn't go up that outside stair 
 last night.' 
 
 ' No ; the family constitutions have 
 grown too delicate ; so one of the great- 
 grandmothers put up one stair in the 
 hall, and another at the kitchen end, and 
 cut oiff a passage between the bedrooms 
 and the front of the house, so that it 
 might not be necessary to pass through 
 other people's rooms or out on the gallery. 
 How jolly and fresh it must have been 
 to come down to breakfast out of doors! 
 By the bye, Theresa, don't you ever be 
 betrayed into saying awfully jolly 
 
 ^ I don't often say it,' said Theresa, 
 smiling. ' And somehow it seems as if 
 
 22 
 
The Rubies of Sl Lo 
 
 one ought to talk Chaucer's, or at least 
 Queen Elizabeth's, language, in a place 
 like this.' 
 
 ^ That's right, fair damsel ! Of your 
 courtesy, let me lead you to the kitchen 
 to behold the resort of the meine! 
 
 The kitchen was a grand old place, 
 with muUioned windows, black oak, 
 shining tables and settles, a huge open 
 fireplace, and a curious apparatus with a 
 wheel for an unfortunate turnspit dog. 
 Altogether, it was too big and too incon- 
 venient to be more than a show-place, 
 where the servants dined in the summer 
 when it was not too draughty, or for 
 Christmas suppers. The real household 
 operations had unseen offices of their own 
 in the rear — not too old to be of use, as 
 Alice said. 
 
 ^ I suppose one could not live in Pom- 
 peii if it had not been buried } ' 
 
 ^Oh no, those old towns do get so 
 unwholesome.' 
 
 ' And machinery spoils one. See ' — 
 as they emerged into the turfed court — 
 ' this old well might help us to stand a 
 siege, and the windlass is a real treasure 
 to sketch, but as to drawing up a bucket 
 23 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 in these days, the men would as soon 
 think of drawing a waggon single-handed. 
 Now for the hall. That, I fancy, is as 
 unchanged in the main as the kitchen, 
 except for the staircase.' 
 
 It was a fine architectural hall, witl/^ 
 shields in the windows, an open roof, 
 and a handsome carved gallery, whence 
 came down the slippery staircase. It 
 was hung with Spanish leather, repre- 
 senting in shaded figures the battle of 
 Roncevalles, and the earlier achievements 
 of Roland, apparently in compliment to 
 the family name. The other tapestry 
 only survived in one bedroom, having 
 apparently been made away with when 
 the house was wainscotted. The hall did 
 not extend the full length of its own side 
 of the quadrangle, the chapel was parti- 
 tioned off at one end, and at the other 
 was a library, a corner room, with one 
 window to the garden, another to the 
 front, and here Miss St. Lo generally 
 sat in the morning. 
 
 There seemed to be an infinite number 
 of upstair rooms, not all entirely fur- 
 nished, some modernised for present ■ 
 needs, some left to what suited the 
 24 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 notions of comfort of former centuries, 
 some with doors opening to the stone 
 outside gallery, some only communi- 
 cating with the passage or with each 
 other. 
 
 ' I fancy there are all sorts of secret 
 passages and stairs if one could only find 
 them,' said Alice. ' Roland and I have 
 hunted about everywhere, but we never 
 got to anything better than the other 
 side of a housemaid's closet. And there's 
 the bell!' 
 
A 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 There was business and letter-writing 
 on all hands till the luncheon, or rather 
 early dinner, and then, as Theresa sat 
 looking up to the pictures opposite to 
 her, she beheld a long line of ancestors 
 carefully ranged in pairs, chronologically, 
 and with their names and dates in yellow 
 letters on their corners, and the shield, a 
 white field with a sable bend, and on a 
 lesser shield (a scutcheon of pretence) a 
 tiny eight-pointed cross. 
 
 There were the stiff couple in one 
 picture, wooden in looks as in material, 
 even their ruffs looking as if cut out of 
 metal, he in a hard black beard, she in a 
 cast-iron cap, not allowing a lock of hair 
 to be visible, their leathern hands locked 
 together — ' very ugly,' as Theresa said. 
 26 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Then came the puffed and bejewelled 
 man, with a lofty ruff, and tiny cap with 
 curling feather, and in a separate frame, 
 for, indeed, her farthingale would have 
 left no room for him, his wife over- 
 shadowed with tall butterfly-like lace on 
 head and neck. A gray beard in a dis- 
 guising extinguisher of a black hat, and 
 a lady in a yellow ruff, preceded a really 
 fine portrait, either by Vandyke or in his 
 style, of the graceful Cavalier and his 
 dame in full costume, followed by the same, 
 exaggerated on the man's part into the 
 wig and lace cravat, while the lady's garb 
 was of the scanty Lely-like kind, quite 
 shocking Theresa ; but her successor, to 
 make up for it, was in the overwhelming 
 head-dress of the eighteenth century, 
 stately and imposing, but scarcely beauti- 
 ful, powder, patch, and all. But Theresa 
 there saw both her relatives looking at her 
 to see whether she remarked something. 
 
 ' What is it ? ' she said. ' Ah, I see ! 
 this next powdery one hasn't got a 
 necklace like the others with that square- 
 looking cross.' 
 
 Alice clapped her hands and exclaimed 
 with delight ; Miss St. Lo smiled. 
 27 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ' No, nor the next, that very pretty 
 one with the dear little curly boy on her 
 lap, reaching to the dog/ 
 
 ' Reynolds,' put in Miss St. Lo. 
 
 ' Nor this one, smiling under her great 
 hat, nor ' ' 
 
 ' No, nor my grandmother,' said Alice. 
 ' No lady since Queen Anne's Dame 
 Theresa ! ' 
 
 ' And such a beauty, as it seems to 
 be,' said Theresa. ' Are those meant for 
 rubies ' 
 
 * You insult them,' cried Alice. 
 
 ' I haven't much experience in rubies,' 
 returned Theresa, in the same tone. ' I 
 don't think I should know one if I saw 
 it, at least whether it was a true one.' 
 
 ' And I don't suppose any one but 
 Vandyke did them much justice,' said 
 Alice. ' They do sparkle there, and 
 the lady is daintily fingering them ; but 
 they look as dead as all the rest in the 
 first pair. I suppose those two were too 
 stupid to get Holbein to do them. But 
 down at the Church the ladies all have 
 the necklace, Theresa, the one in a brass, 
 and the one lying on her back with a 
 broken nose — both too old to be in 
 28 
 
The Rubies of St. ho 
 
 pictures — and this wooden one is just 
 rising on her elbow there, and this ruffy 
 one has got up on her knees, with all 
 her daughters behind her, opposite to 
 her husband with all the sons behind, 
 growing small by degrees and beautifully 
 less. She has her carcanet painted pink, 
 so there's no mistake/ 
 
 ' Is there a story about it ? ' said 
 Theresa. 
 
 ' A most delightful story,' said Alice, 
 ^ beginning with ' 
 
 ' My dear, we can't begin it now,' 
 said her aunt. ' I have to meet Saunders 
 at the hanging wood at half-past two, 
 and you would probably like to come 
 with me. Are you a good walker, 
 Theresa } ' 
 
 And as Theresa answered for her capa- 
 bilities, Alice entreated, ' Then will you 
 tell us all the story — real, right once- 
 upon-a-time fashion in blind man's holi- 
 day, like a good old aunty ' 
 
 ' Very well, only I warn you, Theresa, 
 that it has by no means a satisfactory 
 conclusion. Put on stout boots, young 
 ladies.' 
 
 They had a pleasant walk across the 
 29 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 meads, still very green, and crossed by a 
 raised path in good repair, such as is to 
 be found where ladies love their home 
 farms. Fine cows were to be seen, for 
 Miss St. Lo's farm was a dairy one, and 
 Theresa was a little nervous at theii* 
 approach, especially when the Skye terrier 
 danced round their heads ; but it seemed 
 as if mistress, dogs, and cows quite under- 
 stood one another, and there was a little 
 affectionate fondling at one of the gates 
 of a great creature with long horns, and 
 what Theresa at first took for a white 
 sheet fastened round her. 
 
 The woods came sloping down to the 
 meadows — beech woods, in all manner 
 of shades of amber brown. There was 
 a talk to the woodman, as to the con- 
 demnation of such trees as could best be 
 spared, where thinning was needed ; then 
 a visit to his old mother at his lodge ; 
 a walk back by a raised path by the 
 riverside ; a visit to the rick-yard, where 
 a machine was puffing and humming 
 away over the threshing ; and a few 
 steps away, the barn-yard, where swarms 
 of poultry of all kinds came to be fed, 
 including a peacock, conscious just now 
 
 30 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 of moulting, and very cross, so that there 
 was a struggle to keep him away from 
 driving off the rest of the fowls. 
 
 Altogether Theresa was still rather 
 awed, it was so little like a dream of a 
 strange rural world, yet so very unlike 
 any of her former experiences, and she 
 felt the dream-like sense still more, when 
 all three were seated on low chairs in 
 the drawing-room over afternoon tea, 
 and Alice claimed the story of the 
 rubies. 
 
 ^As if you hadn't heard it over and 
 over again, you silly child.' 
 
 ' But Theresa hasn't. I say, Terry, 
 don't you know Henry VI. 's picture, 
 how he always has a collar of jewels, 
 and a cross below .'^ The collar is SS, 
 but this is the cross. No, no, aunty, 
 I'm not going to tell the story myself, 
 only to show Theresa that she must — 
 
 ^ With grateful memory still adore 
 Her Henry's holy shade. 
 
 Now then.' 
 
 ^ Well, my dear, since you will have 
 it, here it is, such as it is in our family 
 traditions, backed by a few scraps of 
 31 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 letters and wills. It was before one of 
 poor Henry VI.'s battles — I never could 
 make out which, most likely the first at 
 St. Albans — that he slept a night here, 
 when, of course, there were more de- 
 fences, and he ended by leaving some of 
 his treasure behind, as in safe keeping, 
 and the young knight and his wife — she 
 was Katharine de Moels — who pledged 
 themselves never to disclose where it 
 was. In the battle, the knight, Sir 
 Roland, was killed, and by and by, 
 though Dame Katharine tried to hold 
 out the house, the White Rose people 
 forced their way in. They suspected 
 that the treasure was there, and tried to 
 compel her to tell where it was. Edward 
 IV. — he must have been Earl of March 
 then — was always cruel, you know, and 
 he went as near torture as he dared. 
 The story is that he had her hands tied 
 and the fingers' ends burnt with lighted 
 tow, but still she would not say whether 
 the treasure was in the house or not, 
 and then he took her little baby, the 
 heir, and said he should be taken away 
 that he might not be brought up a 
 traitor ; and still she held out, till at 
 32 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 last the Duke of York arrived, very 
 angry at his son's brutality, and set her 
 and her child free. Next, as the story 
 goes, when King Henry was free again, 
 and there was that great day of love at 
 St. Paul's, when he was so happy, and 
 all the rivals walked hand in hand, she 
 came with her little son by her side and 
 knelt at his feet, and restored the casket 
 of treasure to him. He saw her scorched 
 hands, and heard the whole history. 
 Then he said there was no reward fit for 
 such faith and loyalty, but he opened 
 the casket, and threw his own collar and 
 cross of rubies — red for suffering, he 
 said — over her head, and bade her boy 
 keep it for his children's children, to show 
 how great had been his mother's truth 
 and constancy ; and the honourable aug- 
 mentation of the cross gules was granted 
 them.' 
 
 ' Oh ! that is lovely,' cried Theresa. 
 
 'She is the lady of the brass,' said 
 Alice ; * she has her widow's veil turned 
 back to show the carcanet.' 
 
 ' And where are the rubies now ^ ' 
 asked Theresa, eagerly. 
 
 * That's the question,' said Alice ; ' I 
 33 ^ 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 wish they had gone in the Great Rebellion, 
 it would have been more creditable, but 
 they didn't/ 
 
 ' I believe the handsome Cavalier who, 
 by the bye, was a Roman Catholic, dipil 
 just before the outbreak, and I suppose 
 his son's guardians would not give away 
 his inheritance and heirlooms,' replied 
 her aunt. ^Any way, they were pre- 
 served till the time of Dame Theresa, 
 whose husband was the first baronet. 
 She was a St. Lo by birth herself, and 
 a very stately, resolute lady. I have 
 plenty of letters of hers, in very queer 
 spelling, which prove it. Her son and 
 his wife seem to have been bad speci- 
 mens; they were always about the Court 
 in the days of George II., and the wife 
 especially was a terrible gambler at cards. 
 The stern old mother did all she could 
 to keep them from ruining the property, 
 but it was then that all the outlying 
 farms were sold, and the oak wood cut 
 down. One day, young madam came 
 down in her coach, and demanded the 
 rubies to wear at Court. The casket 
 was given to her, and when opened in 
 London, it was empty. There was a 
 34 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 great disturbance : she accused her 
 mother-in-law of having made away 
 ^ with them, and as no reasonable person 
 could believe any such thing of Dame 
 Theresa, others thought that the young 
 Madam Arabella had gambled them or 
 their price away, and only pretended 
 that she found the case empty. The col- 
 lar and cross were, however, never heard 
 of more. There is a minute description 
 of them, by which even the stones could 
 be recognised ; and the family belief is 
 that the old lady detected, or at least 
 suspected, some design of changing them 
 for false ones, and probably hid them 
 away. She survived both her son and 
 his wife, but was paralytic at the last; 
 and when dying she tried to say some- 
 thing to her grandson, which he thought 
 was about the rubies, the well, and truth, 
 but it could not be made out.' 
 
 * Oh, how Roland and I have hunted 
 for them,' said Alice. 
 
 * So have I ! So has every generation 
 since,' replied Miss St. Lo. ' But, alas ! 
 the romance of the St. Lo rubies is a 
 story without an end ! Nothing is left of 
 them but the record in the coat-of-arms.' 
 
 35 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 ^What's that voice?' cried Alice, 
 springing up, as there were sounds in the 
 hall as of ordering a muddy dog into 
 retirement, and out she flew, followed by 
 Miss St. Lo, when exclamations of, 
 ' Roly, dear old Rol, how delicious! ' and, 
 ' Roland, my dear boy, are you wet ? ' 
 
 ' Only dirty. Aunt Terry, too dirty 
 for your drawing-room. Ah, thanks, 
 Alice,' as a thick, solid boot resounded 
 on the floor, ' good girl to remember 
 the shppers ! Telegram not come, eh ! 
 I told Forbes to send up my things ; I 
 got my leave three days sooner than I 
 expected, so I thought I might come and 
 have a pop at the peasants.' 
 
 ' There, hush,' cried his sister, ' you 
 are shocking Theresa. She'll think we 
 
 36 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 have got some awful marksman among 
 us, bent on thinning the population.' 
 
 ^Unaware that Robson, the old 
 keeper, always calls the pheasants peas- 
 ants,' said Miss St. Lo, meeting Theresa's 
 bewildered eyes as she re-entered the 
 drawing-room, followed by Alice, with 
 a hand fondly on the arm of a tall, 
 bright -faced youth. 'Here is Alice's 
 brother, Roland Tresham. Another 
 cousin, Roland — Theresa St. Lo.' 
 
 They shook hands, and Theresa lis- 
 tened to the eager talk of home matters 
 between brother, sister, and aunt ; only 
 interrupted when his telegram arrived, 
 sent in a leisurely manner from the 
 post-office with the second delivery, an 
 arrangement which the recipient took 
 much more coolly than the sender, declar- 
 ing that he should blow up old Harris. 
 
 ' He knows how I hate telegrams, 
 and wishes to spare my nerves,' said Miss 
 St. Lo. 
 
 ' Theresa looks shocked,' said Alice. 
 ' I like telegrams,' said Theresa, 
 bluntly. 
 
 ' The modern and the ancient world,' 
 said Roland. 
 
 37 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 They were all amused at a certain 
 sturdy bluntness of Theresa's, who 
 seemed to be afraid of putting on the 
 least disguise. / 
 
 She happened to be in the drawing- 
 room with Mr. Tresham before the 
 other ladies appeared ; and when, find- 
 ing her looking at the music on the 
 piano, he asked whether she played any 
 of these, she answered : — 
 
 ' Oh no ! I can do little more than 
 hear the scales.' 
 
 He laughed. * That's a humble esti- 
 mate.' 
 
 ' It is all I am good for. I am a 
 daily governess when I am at home,' and 
 she looked him full in the face, as if 
 resolved that he should hear the worst 
 of her ; and when Alice, who had ad- 
 vanced unseen over the soft carpet from 
 the open door of the library, exclaimed : 
 ' Don't talk of those horrors. You are 
 come to take my place, and be my aunt's 
 guest,' Theresa said : ' Her humble com- 
 panion^ if you please, if I am not too 
 ignorant and stupid.' 
 
 It was as if she had put on a set of 
 bristles on Roland's appearance ; and 
 
 38 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 when he asked some question about her 
 place of abode, her answer was, briefly, 
 ' At Wallbridge.' 
 
 ' At Wallbridge ! I know some people 
 near it. Do you know the Lyons ? ' 
 
 * Only their carriage. Oh no, we 
 don't know any one of that sort. My 
 father was an engineer employed by 
 Nares and Co.' 
 
 Alice was rather surprised and vexed 
 by her retreat from equality with the 
 family ; but Miss St. Lo, looking on 
 shrewdly though kindly, suspected that 
 Theresa, transparent at all times^ had 
 seen enough of the world to be aware 
 that, with her aristocratic name and 
 ladylike appearance, it was wiser not to 
 let young men converse with her on 
 false pretences. However, when she had 
 made it known on what terms she be- 
 lieved herself to stand, she was more at 
 her ease, and they had a pleasant merry 
 evening over a paper game. Miss St. 
 Lo had a great turn for drawing-room 
 games, and Roland laughed as he saw the 
 pencils and backs of notes come out, and 
 told Theresa she must be prepared. 
 
 ' I warn you, though,' he said, ' that 
 
 39 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 every new-comer, who has just heard 
 the family romance, inevitably writes, 
 " Where are the rubies ? " till we have 
 prohibited the word/ /^^ 
 
 'Speak for yourself, sir,' said Alice. 
 ' Aunt Terry has made a collection of 
 the answers.' 
 
 ' Sibylline leaves,' said Roland. ' One 
 I think is 
 
 ^ He who searches for the Ruby 
 Only proves himself a booby.* 
 
 ' Nonsensical boy!' said Alice. 'There 
 was one really good one : — 
 
 * When the Lady of St. Lo 
 
 The jewels hid where none may know, 
 
 She laid on them a mighty spell, 
 
 Her sons and daughters know it well. 
 
 None ever shall the casket find 
 
 But such as ever bear in mind 
 
 The meaning of this saying sooth, 
 
 " Within a well there lies the truth." ' 
 
 ' Who made that remarkable oracle ^ ' 
 asked Roland. 
 
 ' See Aunt Terry's conscious looks ! ' 
 said Alice, laughing. ' I believe she did.' 
 
 ' Oh no, my dear,' said her aunt. 
 ' Did you never see her name on the back 
 of the paper It was my dear cousin 
 40 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Kate, who died young, and it was very 
 odd, but she always said that she dreamt 
 those last lines — woke in the early morn- 
 ing with them ringing in her ears.' 
 
 ' Had not she dreamt of Dame 
 Theresa ? ' said Alice. 
 
 ' I believe she often did dream of her,' 
 said Miss St. Lo. have dreamt of 
 the Lady myself — the talking over the 
 legend seems to excite the imagination.' 
 
 ' No doubt we shall to-night,' said 
 Roland. ' Don't you see her likeness } ' 
 
 * Oh/ cried Alice, ^ now I see ! ' 
 
 * Mine ! ' exclaimed Theresa, ' to that 
 horrid starched old thing, with her 
 feathers, and her head a yard high ' 
 
 ' It's not her feathers or her cocker- 
 nonny,' said Alice, * but her eyebrows 
 and her mouth. Don't you see it. Aunt 
 Terry ^ ' 
 
 ' Now you mention it, I do,' said Miss 
 St. Lo. ^You need not be displeased, 
 Theresa. She was a Court beauty in her 
 day!' 
 
 'What a horrid thing to be!' said 
 Theresa in her contradictory voice. 
 
 ' Take the beauty without the Court,' 
 said Roland, at which her chin went up 
 41 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 disgusted. Indeed, she was absolutely 
 provoked at actually dreaming of Dame 
 Theresa, feathers, rolled -up hair, long 
 waist, rubies and all, the very Aext night, 
 or rather morning, and when she awoke 
 those last lines were ringing in her 
 ears : — 
 
 The meaning ot this saying sooth, 
 'Within a well there lies the truth.' 
 
 ' It was such foolish reiteration, just 
 as if I wanted to imitate that Kate, 
 and lay claim to all their grandeur, 
 when I have always said ancestors are 
 nonsense.' 
 
 So she really looked grim when Roland 
 and Alice, at breakfast, began comparing 
 her with the portrait, and finding a 
 resemblance. 
 
 ' With the powder and the cushion for 
 the hair, it would be complete,' said Miss 
 St. Lo, using her glasses to compare the 
 portrait and the maiden. 
 
 ' She doesn't appreciate the compli- 
 ment,' said Roland. ' Just so, doubtless, 
 did my lady look at that flimsy Ara- 
 bella in her patch.' 
 
 ' I declare,' cried Alice, ^ I believe she 
 . 42 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 has been dreaming of her ! Now have 
 you, Theresa ? ' 
 
 She was forced to own it. 
 
 'Yes. Everybody does, you heard, 
 after all the stuff you have talked about 
 her/ 
 
 Alice looked up amazed. Theresa 
 was conscious of having been uncivil to 
 Miss St. Lo, and did not know whether 
 she was glad or sorry for having asserted 
 her independence. 
 
 Roland observed : ' I have been pon- 
 dering over that old saw — not that it is 
 really old, except as a proverb.' 
 
 ' What, that truth is at the bottom of 
 a deep well ^ ' said his sister. 
 
 ' Kate — my dear cousin — used to twist 
 the saying into a sort of forecast that 
 the rubies were at the bottom of the 
 well,' said Miss St. Lo ; * but, alas ! 
 when it was cleaned out, nothing came 
 out but pins and a kitten s skeleton. 
 Then she said it must mean that the 
 rubies should be found by one of the 
 house who had never said anything but 
 the truth.' 
 
 * That is a very pretty saying,' said 
 Alice. 'Did she mean that one must 
 43 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 never have told even a childish falsehood, 
 like the one we told about the peaches ? ' 
 
 * Dear old Katie, she wa^n*t a witch 
 or spae wife/ said Miss St. Lo, smiling. 
 * Of course no one believes those rubies 
 ever will be found. Very likely the old 
 lady did dispose of them in the well, 
 though they never came out of it.' 
 
 * Threw them in in a temper,' said 
 Theresa. ^ I am sure I should ! ' 
 
 * Her true descendant,' said Roland. 
 At which they all laughed ; but his 
 
 aunt thought the girl had been teased 
 enough, and asked whether the keeper 
 had sent in any message about the day's 
 shooting. 
 
 44 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 ' Alice said you wished to speak to me 
 about your money matters/ said Miss 
 St. Lo, detaining Theresa, as Alice, 
 catching up a cloak, ran after her 
 brother, to speed him in his sporting 
 preparations. 
 
 ' Oh ! ' exclaimed Theresa, in an odd 
 sort of tone, really signifying that though 
 she was relieved that the ice should be 
 broken, she would rather have been left 
 to do it herself 
 
 ' Just as you please,' said Miss St. 
 Lo, not quite understanding the tone, 
 ' only if you wish to say anything to me, 
 I am at your service in the library.' 
 
 ' Thank you. Oh ! yes, I wanted to 
 show you — I will only run and fetch my 
 account.' 
 
 45 
 
71ie Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Theresa sped upstairs, and came down 
 with a neat little book, with a4ist of 
 her expenses, which she laid berbre Miss 
 St. Lo. 
 
 ' There's what I was obliged to spend,' 
 she said in her almost ungracious way, 
 ^and I wanted to know whether there 
 was anything else that you wished me to 
 do with the rest, or if I am free to let 
 Cora have some music lessons, and to 
 subscribe to a library for Katie.' 
 
 ' My dear, you are quite welcome to 
 do what you please with it ; but you will 
 want some pocket-money.' 
 
 ' I have fifteen and sixpence of my 
 own,' said Theresa, as if that was wealth, 
 standing before Miss St. Lo, straight and 
 rigid, as one called to account. 
 
 ' Sit down, my dear,' said Miss St. Lo, 
 smiling, for she was much amused. ' I 
 had better tell you what I had thought 
 of, in case you and I suit each other, as 
 I think we seem likely to do. However, 
 we cannot really judge till Alice has left 
 us. You see how she helps me, writing 
 my letters, reading to me, and assisting 
 in parish work.' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 ' I have every prospect of losing more 
 and more of my eyesight as time goes on, 
 and I thought if you could give your 
 time to me, as my young cousin and 
 friend, that I would give you twenty 
 pounds a quarter to meet your unavoid- 
 able expenses ; and as you are a good 
 manager, no doubt there would be a 
 margin for your sister's pleasures.' 
 
 ' Oh ! ' — a very different ^ Oh ! ' from 
 the first. 
 
 ^ You would like it ? ' 
 
 ' Miss St. Lo, it is better than anything 
 I ever could have hoped. Nobody ever 
 offered me more than thirty pounds a 
 year, and I never even got the whole of 
 that, for I never learnt anything properly, 
 and am fit to teach nothing but babies ; 
 and then I always contrive to offend 
 people.' 
 
 Miss St. Lo laughed. 
 
 ^ You are brusque, I suppose } ' 
 
 ' Yes, and mother says it is silly to tell 
 the people when their children are horrid, 
 and I can't manage them. She said I 
 should never get any employment again 
 in the town.' 
 
 ' How old are you ? Nineteen ? 
 47 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Well, you have tiaie before you to 
 improve in gentleness, and perhaps in 
 other things.' 
 
 ' Indeed, I will try ! Getting nice 
 books will be a comfort to Katie for 
 missing me ! And mother will be really 
 glad.' 
 
 ' Then now you shall try whether you 
 can write a letter from my dictation.' 
 
 Theresa wrote very tidily, though a 
 little slowly, but gratitude and exultation 
 carried her through the distraction of 
 hearing merry voices in the avenue. 
 
 On the whole. Miss St. Lo was pleased 
 with her young cousin. There was 
 certainly an abruptness and aggressive- 
 ness about the girl, not exactly unlady- 
 like, but at times by no means gracious, 
 and certainly not what would be ex- 
 pected in a daily governess or humble 
 companion ; and Miss St. Lo could quite 
 believe in the displeasure of the matrons 
 of Wallbridge ; but for her own part she 
 was amused. She did not want her 
 companion to be technically humble — 
 least of all, one who shared her name 
 and blood, nor would that character have 
 suited the features of the original Dame 
 
 48 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Theresa. She only expected that better 
 society and influence might bring the 
 needful softening. For the rest, Theresa 
 seemed to have more power of attention 
 and less desultory habits than Alice, and 
 the work of the morning was satisfac- 
 torily despatched, after which Miss St. 
 Lo took up her knitting, and began to 
 ask questions about Katie's condition, 
 and the accident which had caused her 
 ill-health, and to what sort of library she 
 meant to subscribe — on which one of 
 Theresa's peculiar replies was elicited — 
 * She would not read improving books.' 
 
 ' Not at all, do you mean ^ Or that 
 she wants a story-book by way of play, 
 poor child ' 
 
 ' We never could get her to read any- 
 thing stupid.' 
 
 ^ You have tried ^ ' 
 
 ' Well, yes, but it makes her back 
 ache.' 
 
 ' And what do you call stupid ^ 
 History ^ ' 
 
 ' Oh yes — very.' 
 ' Travels ? ' 
 ' Horrid ! ' 
 
 * Waverley Novels ^ ' 
 
 49 E 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ' Father read Ivanhoe to me, and I 
 liked that ; but we have only one be- 
 sides. It is so long and so dry that 
 Katie cried once when there was nothing 
 else for her to read.' 
 
 ' I should be afraid she was going on 
 in a way to make invalid life all the 
 more trying. We must think what is 
 to be done for her, poor child. How 
 old is she ? ' 
 
 ^ Fourteen last May. Do you mean 
 that I ought not to get amusing books 
 for her ^ You don't know how dull her 
 life is, and all the more so without me.* 
 Theresa's eyes filled with tears. 
 
 ' My dear ! I only wish to see how 
 to make the poor child understand that 
 a little application to a daily duty would 
 give spirit and interest to her day.' 
 
 ' Mrs. Golding said that — our clergy- 
 man's wife — but it seemed so cross and 
 unkind to Kate that she can't bear the 
 sight of her, and mamma told her not to 
 mind, for she was not fit to be bothered.' 
 
 ' Ah ! ' sighed Miss St. Lo, at this 
 confession. ^We must think,' she re- 
 peated, and she was about to inquire 
 about the younger girl and her studies, 
 50 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 when the downright Theresa returned to 
 the charge. 
 
 ' If you disapprove of my getting her 
 library books, it is not fair to use your 
 money for it. So please tell me/ 
 
 * That is a most honest scruple. In- 
 deed, I could not wish to deprive her of 
 any enjoyment, poor dear ; but at the 
 same time it does not seem to me safe 
 to turn a girl of fourteen loose upon a 
 circulating library. Suppose I lend you 
 books for her reading — I have a great 
 many, specially for young girls — and you 
 could send her the postage for their 
 return.' 
 
 Theresa agreed to this, though not 
 without some qualms as to whether Miss 
 St. Lo's notions of the amusing might 
 agree with Katie's ; but Miss St. Lo 
 found a tale that answered to her views, 
 and added to it an attractive account of 
 the Deep Sea Mission. Theresa could 
 not at first think why. 
 
 Afterwards they talked over Cora, who 
 was more inclined to use her oppor- 
 tunities. Theresa ardently wished to 
 give her the means of preparing to 
 be a superior governess, and did not 
 
 U^•!V£RSiTY 0« 
 >Ui^>iO!S LIBRARY 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 think the only day-school at Wallbridge 
 satisfactory, even with the extras she 
 hoped to be able to procure for her. 
 Again, Miss St. Lo promised to consider 
 what had best be done, being, in fact, a 
 good deal more drawn towards the earnest, 
 straightforward daughter than towards 
 the mother. Something in the letter of 
 acceptance, some unconscious betrayals in 
 talk, gave her a strange sense of shifti- 
 ness, and inspired something of mistrust ; 
 while Theresa was almost too transparent. 
 When Alice came in eager and rosy, 
 having walked half over the woods with 
 her brother, and detailing his success 
 with the game, the looks of dismay and 
 horror she excited were a sight. 
 
 ^What! — look on and see the poor 
 birds and hares killed ! How could 
 you ^ ' 
 
 ' I did look the other way,' said Alice, 
 ' if they weren't quite dead. Don't look 
 so shocked.' 
 
 ' I think it horrible ! ' said Theresa, 
 decidedly. 
 
 ' Then I suppose you will never speak 
 to Roland again ? ' 
 
 ' It is the nature of man' 
 52 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ^ Then you think it worse in a woman 
 to look on than in a man to do it ! ' said 
 Alice, half laughing ; but Theresa was 
 quite serious. 
 
 * Yes, I do,' she said. 
 
 ' It was not the way of my generation,' 
 put in Miss St. Lo ; ' but the treat of a 
 walk with a brother will carry off a good 
 deal. Did Roland look at the new 
 buildings on Hargrave's farm, Alice ? ' 
 
 This closed the discussion, but Theresa 
 felt for a time as if she should never like 
 Alice so well as before. 
 
 The impression, however, wore away 
 when the two girls joined in attentions 
 to a damaged kitten, and Alice's real 
 tenderness was visible. Those were very 
 pleasant days during the remainder of 
 the cousins' visit. Roland was not al- 
 ways pheasant-shooting, nor Alice ac- 
 companying him. There was a showery 
 afternoon, when there were two rival 
 games of battledore-and-shuttlecock in 
 the hall, and Roland and his aunt gained 
 the day by several hundreds beyond the 
 two giddy maidens. There was a grand 
 expedition with pony-carriage and ponies 
 to the seashore in quest of any curiosi- 
 53 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ties cast up by the waves. The aunt 
 had nearly exhausted the possibilities, 
 but Alice's juniors were in the fever of 
 collectors, and always expected some 
 fresh discovery from a visit to the 
 Manor. It was all new and delightful 
 to Theresa, opening new vistas of life, 
 and she began to see how some such 
 interest would enliven Katie, and to 
 meditate how to impart the idea in her 
 letters. 
 
 The Sunday was a busy one. Roland 
 was wont to declare that Aunt Terry 
 toiled like any clergyman on her day of 
 rest, and bantered his sister and Theresa 
 on the work expected of them ; but 
 Theresa had been on the Sunday School 
 staff at Wallbridge, and willingly suc- 
 ceeded to Alice's class, though she made 
 no secret that she thought the scholars 
 very inferior in looks, conduct, and 
 abilities, and did not admire the Northam 
 system. Miss St. Lo could not help 
 saying : — 
 
 ' My dear, you need not make all your 
 opinions so very prominent.' 
 
 Theresa begged her pardon good- 
 humouredly. Alice smoothed down the 
 54 
 
 A 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 feathers that were ruffling up, and Roland's 
 parting comment was : — 
 
 ^ She will be a jolly little brick when 
 she is not quite so much of a turkey- 
 cock ! ' 
 
 55 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Alone with Miss St. Lo, Theresa ceased 
 to have sparring matches. She enjoyed 
 being useful, and she proved more so 
 than Ahce had been. She wrote more 
 quickly and more distinctly, and could 
 read well ; while, as she grew more at 
 home, she was ready with innumerable 
 little services. The choice of books 
 was probably made with a view to her 
 benefit as well as the elder lady's amuse- 
 ment, for they were often of the older 
 order, unknown to and neglected by 
 shallow youth. 
 
 The maiden could not help having a 
 sense of growth, as it were, and was 
 happy, except so far as regarded home 
 matters. She knew that Katie missed 
 her sorely, and did not always appre- 
 
 56 
 
The Rubies of Sl Lo 
 
 ciate the books provided by Miss St. Lo ; 
 but what worried her most was the con- 
 stant endeavour of her mother to impress 
 on her that she must cultivate her rich 
 kinswoman, and try to stand high in her 
 good graces. It was not pleasant to get 
 a letter fiill of gratitude to ' dear Miss 
 St. Lo for her kindness in providing 
 such admirable and useful reading for 
 our sweet invalid/ and immediately after 
 a pencilled scrawl from the sweet invalid 
 herself — 'Why do you send such dry 
 stuff? Is it the old lady's doing ? Hor- 
 rid old frump ! ' And in answer to a 
 letter which, with full conviction, Theresa 
 had written to explain the expedience, 
 not to say the duty, of self-improvement 
 and mental exertion, she received — ' It is 
 too bad of you to bother your poor little 
 sister with jaw ; but I suppose you can't 
 help it.' 
 
 The effect of the book on the Deep 
 Sea Fishing Expedition was, however, to 
 cause an eager undertaking of knitting on 
 behalf of the fishers and seamen ; but 
 Theresa soon detected when it flagged, 
 and the proceeds were a pair of cuffs, 
 one knitted much more tightly than the 
 57 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 other, a tolerable comforter, and two 
 pairs of stockings, with a letter from 
 Katie, who certainly did not blink the 
 truth, saying : — 
 
 ' I really couldn't do more than that 
 one cujfF — it made my back ache so ; 
 and that hard coarse yarn for the stock- 
 ings hurts one's fingers so.' 
 
 While the mother's letter said Katie 
 was so interested, and so glad to do any- 
 thing for those poor seamen. This was 
 evidently meant to be shown, and all 
 this made Theresa doubly plain-spoken. 
 She made no secret that Katie murmured 
 at the books and failed in the work, and 
 she was rather surprised to find that 
 Miss St. Lo only pitied, but showed 
 neither wonder nor resentment, knowing 
 perhaps what was to be expected from a 
 spoilt invalid child. But when Theresa's 
 revulsion of feeling made her unneces- 
 sarily critical, and sometimes almost rude 
 to the visitors who frequented the Manor, 
 Miss St. Lo thought it well to call her to 
 order, waiting, however, till there was 
 some intimacy and confidence between 
 them. 
 
 ^ My dear,' she said, as they sat down 
 
 58 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 by firelight after the departure of some 
 visitors, ' there was no need to tell Mrs. 
 Leslie that you hated dachshunds.' 
 
 ' They are horridly ugly/ 
 
 * Every one to his taste, you know ; 
 but why vex her by finding fault ? ' 
 
 ' I could not say what I did not 
 think; 
 
 ' Certainly not ; but were you obliged 
 to be uncourteous ? ' 
 
 ' Surely one ought to speak the truth 
 — the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
 but the truth ! ' said Theresa, not in her 
 aggressive style, but meditatively, as if 
 thinking out a question. 
 
 ^ The truth, and nothing but the truth, 
 decidedly, as we believe it to be, for we 
 are not always capable of knowing the 
 perfect truth. But the whole truth it 
 may sometimes be better to ' 
 
 ' Oh, Miss St. Lo ! ' broke in Theresa, 
 ' I did not think you could be in favour 
 of concealment and falsehood.' 
 
 ' Never in any case of falsehood, nor 
 of the concealment, which is tantamount 
 to deception, only when it is unnecessary, 
 or unkind, even harmful to blurt out 
 the whole. For instance, you were not 
 59 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 bound to give your opinion of Mrs. 
 Leslie's dog.' 
 
 ' Yes, the daughter asked me if he 
 was not a darling beauty ! ' 
 
 ' Without committing yourself to his 
 beauty, could not you have said that he 
 seemed very fond of her, or that he 
 looked intelligent — which he did — or 
 even that he was a droll fellow ' 
 
 ' Umph,' was all that Theresa vouch- 
 safed. 
 
 ' Think about it, my dear, for though 
 it is better than the other extreme, yet 
 the contradictory mood is not a safe 
 one.' 
 
 Theresa subsided. Though not very 
 amiably or courteously, she had really 
 taken the reproof from Miss St. Lo 
 better than if it had come from almost 
 any one else, because she really respected 
 that lady, and had a strong sense of her 
 truthfulness, knowing too that her own 
 rough openness was usually received 
 without the same forbearance. In fact, 
 Miss St. Lo had begun to perceive 
 that this demonstrative plain-speaking 
 was probably the recoil of a sincere 
 nature against one less candid ; and she 
 60 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 was on that account doubly anxious to 
 deal wisely and gently with the young 
 relation who interested her more and 
 more. 
 
 Thus time went on, not without some 
 softening and improvement, almost un- 
 consciously on the young lady's part, and 
 in alternations of occupation at home, 
 parish, and a quiet county lady's society, 
 and several visits from old friends, 
 and a few flashes of Roland Tresham for 
 shooting days, with brother-officers and 
 neighbours. 
 
 Miss St. Lo always stayed at home for 
 Christmas, to provide for the brightening 
 of the village ; but after the Northam 
 pleasures had been provided for, she 
 intended to go to stay at her sister's 
 home, and send Theresa to Wallbridge 
 for the time ; but this was delayed by 
 the good lady catching a very bad bron- 
 chial cold, which kept her long in bed, 
 and for two months between her bed- 
 room and dressing-room, and, moreover, 
 seriously affected her eyes. She was 
 never ill enough to send for Mrs. Tres- 
 ham, who v/as in the midst of the 
 children's holidays, and her own maid 
 6i 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 was a very efficient nurse ; but Theresa 
 was a most useful supplement, waiting 
 on her whenever her good Mrs. Reeves 
 needed rest and variety, reading to her, 
 writing bulletins and business letters, 
 going on her errands, and bringing home 
 entertaining reports. The apprentice- 
 ship to a sick-room in Kate's case 
 rendered her an excellent attendant on a 
 convalescent, and it was wonderful how 
 many of the little asperities of her nature 
 were pared down by her consideration 
 for her patient. 
 
 Poor Katie grumbled dreadfully, and 
 was sure that her sister might long ago 
 have been spared, and that one of the 
 Treshams ought to have come to relieve 
 her ; but the sailor brother was at home 
 on leave, and it was not till just before 
 his departure that he came, with his 
 mother, Roland, and a younger sister, to 
 Northam Manor, and Theresa was set 
 free for her visit to her home, while 
 Miss St. Lo would go back with her 
 nearer relations. 
 
 Cora's affairs had not been forgotten. 
 There was a High School at Newminster, 
 the Archdeacon's cathedral town, which 
 62 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 was a special hobby of his, and she was 
 to be boarded in the house of a former 
 governess of his daughters, and attend it, 
 with occasional holiday Sundays with 
 the Treshams, beginning at Easter. Mrs. 
 Tresham asked about her exact age, 
 which Theresa could of course give. 
 
 ^And,' said Miss St. Lo, 'I should 
 like to fill up the pedigree. You can 
 help me, Theresa.' 
 
 * Oh ! do show us the pedigree ! ' 
 cried the young cousin, another Theresa, 
 called by her last syllables. 
 
 Miss St. Lo smiled. * I always had a 
 fellow-feeling for Alphonse in the Veil- 
 lees du Chateau^ when he saved the pedi- 
 gree in the earthquake of Lisbon rather 
 than anything else, though, poor fellow, 
 it proved a false one.' 
 
 ' Well, you know my Archdeacon does 
 not believe in ours beyond Edward III.,' 
 said Mrs. Tresham, laughing. 
 
 * Ah ! that's to tease us,' returned her 
 sister, getting up and unlocking one of 
 the carved doors at the base of the book- 
 cases of the library where they were 
 sitting, and bringing out a roll. 
 
 It was an imposing spectacle, all on 
 
 63 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 parchment, and beginning before the 
 Battle Roll, beautifully written, and 
 arranged like the branches of a creeper, 
 coming down from the top. Each head 
 of the family had a circle to himself, and 
 beside it was his shield, ^ party per pale ' 
 with the bearings of his wife, all beauti- 
 fully painted and gilded. 
 
 The two sisters could name every 
 curious heraldic bearing scientifically, 
 'like signal flags,' said Will Tresham, 
 and the two young Theresas looked over 
 it with a certain awe, and were shown 
 the name of the heroine who guarded 
 King Henry's jewels, and whose record 
 the draughtsman had encircled with a 
 little collar of rubies. Then again came 
 the St. Lo bearing doubled on the shield, 
 and there stood the name which they, 
 like their aunt, bore, in memory of the 
 stately dame who, if she had made away 
 with the rubies, had still left a deep 
 impression of her high character in the 
 family. There, too, were marked the 
 frivolous grandson and his more frivolous 
 Arabella, and their three sons, the two 
 eldest who had died s.p., sine prole^ 
 namely childless, the second of them in 
 
 64 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 1779. ^ At the battle of Brandy wine,' 
 said Mrs. Tresham. 
 
 * One can't put in such a frightful 
 name/ said Miss St. Lo ; ' besides, it was 
 on the wrong side. Ah ! Terry, I for- 
 got. It was very good of you not to 
 explode at once.' 
 
 ' I'm American enough not to think 
 it the wrong side,' said Theresa. 
 
 ^ He was a spendthrift, a likeness of his 
 mother, and ran away,' said Miss St. Lo; 
 ^ and, happily, was killed before he could 
 damage the property, before his brother 
 Roland died, you see.' 
 
 ' Let us hope he was a hero in his 
 death,' said Mrs. Tresham. ' Then 
 here's our great grandfather — your great 
 great grandfather, you children. You 
 see how you branch off here, Theresa.' 
 
 'There's Henry St. Lo, the third 
 generation,' said the aunt. ' You three 
 girls ought to be put in.' 
 
 'Not by you, Terry,' rejoined the 
 sister. ' I won't have you straining 
 your eyes with black letter. I'll do 
 it to-morrow morning. You, Theresa, 
 give me names and dates.' 
 
 Theresa gave her mother's Christian 
 
 65 F 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 name, Cora AHnda, the time of the 
 father's death, and the names and birth- 
 days of herself and sisters ; but, to her 
 confusion, she found herself really igno- 
 rant of her mother's maiden name and 
 of the date of her marriage, but she pro- 
 mised to ascertain these, and to send 
 back the intelligence in time for Mrs. 
 Tresham to insert it before starting for 
 Newminster. 
 
 66 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 It is needless to describe Theresa's wel- 
 come — how her mother looked at her 
 with delight, Cora hung upon her, and 
 Katie's face beamed as her beloved sister 
 sat by her on a footstool, and gave her- 
 self up to her caressing hands, while all 
 commented with admiration on her looks 
 and dress. Cora was in raptures at the 
 prospect of leaving ^ this stupid place,' 
 though Kate declared that no one thought 
 how dismal it would be for her to be the 
 only one left at home. 
 
 * Never mind now,' said Theresa ; 
 * don't let me spoil the present now that 
 we are all at home together.' 
 
 Torrents of news were poured forth 
 on either side during the meal, and the 
 sisters were charmed and impressed by 
 
 67 
 
The Rubies of St. ho 
 
 Theresa's declaring that it was so home- 
 like and comfortable to make one's own 
 toast, and wash up one's own tea-things. 
 
 ' I thought you would be afraid of all 
 our grand ancestors being shocked,' said 
 Cora. 
 
 ' Why should they ? I am sure Miss 
 St. Lo liked me all the better when I 
 told her about it.' 
 
 ' Patronising ? ' said Katie. 
 
 ' Oh no, no ; she has not a particle 
 of patronage in her. She thought it 
 sensible.' 
 
 *And you went and told her every- 
 thing ! ' said Mrs. St. Lo. 
 
 ' Of course I did ; she was so kind, I 
 could not help it ; and she was pleased. 
 She would have thought it really vulgar 
 to pretend to be better off than we are, 
 besides being false.' 
 
 * There, mother ! ' said Katie. 
 
 * Those ways may do with some 
 people, it seems,' observed her mother, 
 ' but they won't go down with every 
 one. Tradespeople are twice as civil 
 to me now that it is known where you 
 are living — yes, and gentlefolks too ! ' 
 
 * Mother, that's not like an American- 
 
 68 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 born woman ! ' cried Theresa. ^ Oh ! 
 and by the bye, Miss St. Lo wanted to 
 know your maiden name, and I was quite 
 ashamed that I did not know.' 
 
 ^ I was Cora Alinda Vanhoven,' replied 
 Mrs. St. Lo. ' A very good old family 
 at Albany. But there are none of them 
 left now.' 
 
 ' Albany ! However did my father 
 get there ^ ' muttered Kate. 
 
 ' And,' proceeded Theresa, ' she wants 
 to know the date of your marriage to 
 him.' 
 
 ' Well, I call that prying ! Whatever 
 can it matter to her ' exclaimed the 
 mother. 
 
 * It is for the pedigree,' said Theresa, 
 and as her sister exclaimed — ' Yes, it is 
 a beautiful great genealogy, all written 
 out on parchment in black letter and 
 illuminated, showing how we all came 
 down from a Norman Baron de Saint 
 Leu before the time of William the 
 Conqueror. It is quite a handsome 
 thing to look at, and our father's name 
 is there. I never respected myself half 
 so much as when I saw what I came 
 from.' 
 
 69 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 * Are we in it ? ' asked Cora, eagerly. 
 
 ^ Mrs. Tresham is going to write us 
 all in, like the rest. I gave her all our 
 birthdays, but she wanted to know about 
 mother's name and the date of the 
 marriage.' 
 
 Mrs. St. Lo considered a minute, and 
 then said : ' 1869 — yes, it was 1869 — 
 the 14th of June.' 
 
 Theresa noted it down on a scrap of 
 paper, and the talk drifted away to a 
 description of as many of the Treshams 
 as she had seen. Indeed, the mother 
 seemed desirous of leading away from 
 the subject. 
 
 The next morning, while Mrs. St. 
 Lo was gone out to do her marketings, 
 Theresa sat down to write her letter, 
 but presently jumped up in dismay in 
 a wild search for the scrap of paper 
 where she had jotted down her mother's 
 answer. Was it the 4th or 14th of 
 June, 1868 or '69? 
 
 * Oh ! what can it matter ? ' demanded 
 Cora. ' Who will care ? ' 
 
 ^ It ought to be true,' said Theresa ; 
 and after a vain rush to her own room, 
 and Kate's declaration that the maid was 
 70 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 certain to have lighted the fire with the 
 paper, she began to sigh : * If I don't 
 send it by the early post, it will not 
 arrive in time for Mrs. Tresham to 
 make the entry before they go to New- 
 minster. When will mamma come 
 in?' 
 
 ' Most likely not for ever so long,' 
 said Kate. ^ She will poke over all the 
 chickens and ducks in the place, and go 
 bargaining half an hour apiece, and then 
 very likely go and impress old Miss 
 Brown or somebody with your grandeur ! 
 Perhaps she will go to church too. 
 You'll be lucky if she comes home before 
 half-past twelve.' 
 
 ' I'll tell you how you may find out,' 
 said Cora. ^There's an old Bible of 
 papa's in the corner of the press, and 
 there are all our dates in it ; for I have 
 looked.' 
 
 Cora fetched the book, and very dirty 
 it was ; but as she opened it she broke 
 into an exclamation of intense surprise. 
 
 ' Why, what's this It is not mother 
 at all. Yes it is! ''Cora Alinda." 
 But ' 
 
 'Let me see,' and Theresa caught 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 hold of the Bible, and read on the fly- 
 leaf:— 
 
 ' Henry Roland St. Lo, married on 
 the 13th of August, 1870, Cora Alinda, 
 widow of Elijah Cicero Lowe, at Rio 
 Janeiro, by the Rev. P. H. Smith." ' 
 
 Then followed the entry of births, 
 baptisms, and deaths of two sons, 
 followed by the two existing sisters ! 
 
 ' What is it what is it ? Why don't 
 you tell me ? ' cried Kate, raising herself 
 petulantly as the other two stood staring 
 at the record. 
 
 ' Why, Theresa, it is not there at 
 all ! ' cried Cora. 
 
 * And she was a widow ! ' chimed in 
 Theresa. 
 
 ^ Give it to me, give it to me ! ' 
 imperiously called Kate. 
 
 They came nearer, as she sprang up, 
 and she read out the words, adding : — 
 
 ' Mother said she was married at 
 Albany. I see,' — Theresa's words came 
 slowly. ' It must have been to this 
 Elijah, — I must be his child. Oh! 
 how dreadful ! ' 
 
 She sank down upon a chair and did 
 not speak while the two little sisters 
 72 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 examined the document, and Cora's 
 puzzled ' Then is Terry somebody else 
 after all ? ' sent Katie into an odd peal 
 of laughter. 
 
 Full in the midst the mother came in, 
 having despatched her business earlier 
 than she expected. She stood aghast at 
 the aspect of her daughters. None of 
 them quite liked to speak, but Theresa 
 pointed to the Bible, on which her first 
 feeling was anger. 
 
 ' Whoever gave you leave to be 
 meddling and prying } ' she exclaimed. 
 
 ' Nobody ever told me not ! ' cried 
 Cora ; ' and Terry had lost the paper, 
 and wanted to write to the old ladies.' 
 
 ' Bother the old ladies ! What did it 
 signify ^ I'm sure your poor dear father 
 adopted you and made no difference 
 between you and the rest, but was as 
 fond of you ' 
 
 ' So he was,' said Theresa. ' But, 
 mother, who am I really ^ ' 
 
 'Of course, my poor Elijah's child. 
 He was killed on that horrid Argentine 
 line only the week after you were born. 
 And there was I, not seventeen years 
 old, all alone with nothing but a horrid 
 73 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 brown woman in a hut, without a white 
 woman, not even a Portuguese, near me. 
 The only wonder is that we are either 
 of us alive now. It was papa — Harry Lo 
 we called him then — who came to tell 
 me. He had held him in his arms when 
 he died, and promised him to take care 
 of us. Well, there was I all alone, with 
 hardly any money, no one to see to me. 
 There was a talk of subscription to get 
 me home, but what was the use of that ^ 
 Our land in New England was worked 
 out, and my brother was gone west, I 
 did not know where ; so Harry, who 
 was goodness itself, said he would make 
 it all right if he married me. How else 
 could he keep his promise to Elijah ^ 
 He would bring up my baby as his own. 
 And so he did, Terry ; you can't say 
 anything else.' 
 
 ' No, indeed I can't. Dear papa ! ' 
 
 ' He was as fond of you as any of his 
 own ; and when he got a fresh appoint- 
 ment, away from all our old set, and 
 moved to Melbourne, no one ever 
 guessed that you were not his child. I 
 am sure we forgot.' 
 
 ' But my name ! ' said Theresa. 
 74 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ' I tell you no one ever called him 
 anything but Lo. I believe he signed 
 himself by the St., but people took it 
 for an initial. It was not till we came 
 to England, and he took up his family 
 connections and associations then, that 
 he chose us all to be called St. Lo, as 
 well as the rest.' 
 
 ^Though I had no right,' sighed 
 Theresa. 
 
 * A pretty awkward fuss it would have 
 made, to keep you Lowe, when all the 
 rest were St. Lo ; and what did it signify 
 to anybody ' 
 
 ' It does signify a great deal at the 
 Manor,' said Theresa. *Oh, mother, 
 how could you send me there ' 
 
 ^Well, I forgot,' said Mrs. St. Lo, 
 who, as her daughters knew only too 
 well, could always forget what it was 
 not convenient to remember. 
 
 * Forgot ! ' said Theresa, with a certain 
 contempt in her tone. * So now I have 
 been passed off on them as a real St. Lo, 
 when I am nothing but an impostor.' 
 
 ' Theresa, Theresa, how can you ^ ' 
 exclaimed her mother, crying. ' I did 
 nothing false. They asked me to send 
 
 75 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 them my eldest daughter, and so I did. 
 What else could I have done ? How 
 could I have sent poor Katie ? ' 
 
 ' You might have told the truth/ said 
 Theresa pitilessly, in her consternation. 
 
 ' Now, you ungrateful girl, going and 
 blaming me, when I did it all for your 
 good, and there's never been any differ- 
 ence made between you,' moaned the 
 mother. ' What can it matter to any 
 one ? The old lady had just what she 
 wanted, and is as fond of you as possible, 
 and then you turn round on me, who 
 never said a word that wasn't fact.' 
 
 'You made me live a lie,' said 
 Theresa. 
 
 * I'm sure I never said an untruth. 
 Now, did I ? They asked for my eldest 
 daughter, and I sent her. And I told 
 you when I was married, and I was ! ' 
 
 ' Making the truth serve the purpose 
 of a lie ! Oh, mother, mother ! ' 
 
 Again Mrs. St. Lo sobbed about 
 ingratitude, and how entirely insigni- 
 ficant the real fact was. Indeed, with 
 her irregular education and subsequent 
 wandering life, she really did not estimate 
 the enormity of foisting a person into a 
 
 76 
 
The Rubies of Sl Lo 
 
 family where she had no right to appear, 
 and could not understand her daughter's 
 horror at the imposition on the ancient 
 line whose spirit Theresa had imbibed. 
 
 ' I must set it right without loss of 
 time,' said Theresa. 
 
 ^ Oh, oh, oh ! you want to ruin your- 
 self and us too,' was Mrs. St. Lo's cry. 
 ^ When all was going on so well ! Now 
 poor Cora will lose her schooling, and 
 we are undone, all through your nonsense 
 and ingratitude.' 
 
 ' Kate and Cora are their relations 
 still,' said Theresa. ' You put me into 
 Kate's place.' 
 
 ^ The nasty inquisitive old thing will be 
 offended, and never do any more for us.' 
 
 ' No wonder,' said Theresa, too angry 
 and ashamed for any softening of prob- 
 abilities, and turning to find her writing- 
 case with trembling, agitated hands. 
 
 ' Theresa, I desire you will not.' 
 
 ' I must, mother.' 
 
 'You would put your mother to 
 shame.' 
 
 ' The shame was in the deceit.' 
 ' Theresa, Theresa, I never thought you 
 could be such an undutiful daughter.' 
 
 77 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 ' Mother, there is a higher duty than 
 even obeying you.' 
 
 And Theresa walked out of the room, 
 leaving her mother weeping bitterly. 
 
 The other two girls had not spoken 
 all the time, but Kate now said : ' Never 
 mind now, mammie. You had better 
 have let the old ladies know, but I dare- 
 say they will make it up to us ; and if 
 Terry stays at home, it will be jolly.' 
 
 ' That's all you care for,' said her 
 mother, petulantly. *When such a 
 chance had come in her way, that she 
 should throw it all away ! ' 
 
 ^ Why, mother,' said little Cora, * you 
 always told us to speak the truth.' 
 
 ^ I tell you I have not said a word 
 untrue, you naughty child! But you 
 are all taking part against me, and you'll 
 see how it is when you don't get any 
 more help, and have to go and be a 
 teacher at the national school ! ' 
 
 78 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Theresa was boiling over with indig- 
 nation when she ran upstairs with the 
 first sentence seething in her mind to 
 find vent — ' I find I am an unconscious 
 impostor ' ; but when she had opened her 
 blotting-book, she found that there was no 
 ink in the standish, and the bottle contain- 
 ing the supply was in the chifFonnier down- 
 stairs. To go back thither immediately 
 was impossible in her present frame of 
 mind, and she decided on going to the 
 nearest shop to purchase a sixpenny 
 bottle. 
 
 By the time this was done, the town 
 clock warned her that the early post 
 which she had intended to catch was 
 gone out, and she relaxed her pace, 
 while the righteous wrath at the de- 
 
 79 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ception began to cool in proportion to 
 the fatigue of her unnecessary speed, 
 and the sense of consequences began 
 to obtrude itself. She was resigning a 
 most happy, affectionate connection, 
 which had done her personally more 
 good than anything else, and which 
 opened infinite possibilities. Miss St. 
 Lo, Alice, Roland, all foremost in the 
 rank of those whom she had learnt to 
 hold dear — all to be given up as by one 
 who had come among them on false 
 pretences, and who would scorn her 
 henceforth. There was that element 
 too of family importance which she 
 had just begun to estimate enough to 
 make her fall a hard one ; while the 
 home that had seemed so kindly and 
 simple when she returned to it for a 
 time, now became dull, mean, un- 
 comfortable when she was reduced to 
 nothing else, after that brief glimpse 
 of the other world. *If I had only 
 never been there,' she thought ; * or if 
 mother had only told them, they might 
 have had me after all ! Or even if not, 
 I should never have known this terrible 
 pain of giving it all up — all — all ! I 
 80 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 wish I had written my letter at first 
 before it began to hurt me. Suppose I 
 didn't — who would be the wiser? No, 
 no, no, God defend me. Or waited to 
 go back and see the dear old lady — oh, 
 should I dare ^ ' 
 
 The bell for the twelve o'clock Litany 
 began to ring. Theresa stood a moment. 
 Somehow she felt as if her fate depended 
 on which way she turned at that moment. 
 If she went into church, she knew she 
 should persevere in the confession ; if 
 not, well she was beginning to wish to 
 put it off. 
 
 This frightened her. She hurried 
 into the church and was on her knees 
 in a moment, hiding her face. How 
 much she followed the clauses there 
 was no knowing, but her soul was in the 
 ' have mercy on me.' 
 
 As she came out, she was surprised to 
 be joined by her mother. Had Mrs. St. 
 Lo been repenting No. The poor girl 
 was more surprised as they walked home. 
 
 ' Have you written off hastily, 
 Theresa ? ' 
 
 ' Not yet. There was no ink in 
 my room.' 
 
 8i Q 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 * Then there is time to think it over/ 
 ' Mother, how can you ? Just out of 
 
 church too ! ' 
 
 ^ I don't know what you mean/ said 
 
 Mrs. St. Lo, fretfully. ' I am sure I 
 
 have not said an untrue word, nor asked 
 
 you to.' 
 
 ' Only to act it,' said Theresa, bitterly. 
 
 Indeed Mrs. St. Lo, though certainly 
 a pious woman, had never connected 
 her religion with ' truth in the inward 
 parts.' She had been a good mother, 
 and scrupulously taught her daughters 
 that the flat falsehoods of childhood 
 were wicked, and in fact there was 
 a strong truthfulness and candour of 
 nature in both Theresa and Katie which 
 made the seed grow readily. Mr. St. 
 Lo likewise had shown a disdain and 
 contempt of all deceit, which had its 
 effect on the girls, and in the days of 
 prosperity and of his influence his wife 
 had fewer temptations to shuffling ; but 
 so it was, she was one of the religious 
 people in whom the connection seemed 
 to be lacking between her devotion 
 and the resistance to her own peculiar 
 defects, 
 
 8a 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 This want of perception, or obtuseness 
 of conscience, stirred up the daughter's 
 smouldering wrath, and with some bitter- 
 ness she exclaimed : ' I hope Theresa is 
 my real name ? or is it another make up 
 out of Thirza or something else nasty 
 and Yankee ? ' 
 
 ' How can you go on so ? ' said her 
 mother, crying. ' No, Theresa is your 
 real christened name. Your poor father 
 — yes, your real father — had a young 
 sister whose name was Theresa, who 
 was my great friend till she died at 
 fifteen, and he had always said his first 
 girl should be named after her. I re- 
 member papa, Harry St. Lo, who stood 
 godfather to you, was rather pleased, 
 and said it was a family name.' 
 
 * So it came in handily to keep up the 
 imposture,' sighed Theresa. 
 
 Her mother would have complained 
 further, but for being overtaken by an 
 acquaintance, whose congratulations and 
 questions were almost more than Theresa 
 could endure, and she felt as if she must 
 plunge into the communication on the 
 spot ; but her mother's piteous looks still 
 withheld her. 
 
 83 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Then came the early dinner, and 
 then Theresa was determined that the 
 letter should be written and posted so 
 as to prevent any further argument or 
 hesitation. So she dashed upstairs and 
 locked herself into her room. She 
 would not come out till the deed was 
 done. Much more difficult she found 
 it than in her first outburst, since she 
 had realised the sacrifice for herself, as 
 well as for her sisters, for she fully 
 believed that, guiltless as they were, and 
 undoubted scions of St. Lo, the fraud 
 that their mother had practised could 
 not be forgiven, and the prospect held 
 out to Cora would be given up ; whilst 
 for herself the home she was condemned 
 to would never be the same home again. 
 
 Of the exposure of her mother's super- 
 cherie she was still too angry to think 
 much till she saw it before her in her 
 own writing. 
 
 'My dearest Miss St. Lo — Let 
 me call you so once. You cannot be 
 more shocked than I to find that I am 
 an unconscious impostor. My sisters 
 are the real daughters of Henry St. Lo, 
 
 84 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 but my mother, when he married her, 
 was a widow, and I am the daughter of 
 E. C. Lowe.' 
 
 (She could not bring herself to write 
 Ehjah Cicero, to whom, poor man, she 
 did not entertain very fihal feelings, and 
 she went on to tell the facts as she had 
 forced them from her mother, finishing 
 with a sentence drawn from her at last 
 by the sense that she had denounced her 
 poor loving parent, as the sentences 
 looked cruel and ugly on the paper.) 
 
 * May I say in excuse for my mother 
 that I really do not think she was aware 
 of the wrong she was doing to the family, 
 and that she looked on my adoption by 
 the only father I ever knew as really 
 identifying me with the rest.'^ But I 
 know better, and can only feel the shame, 
 and thank you for all the goodness I have 
 in no way deserved. 
 
 * Yours (and indeed it is) most grate- 
 fully and sincerely, 
 
 ^ Theresa Lowe.' 
 
 85 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 The letter was gone, and the feverish 
 waiting days began. Mrs. St. Lo was 
 not unkind — it was not in her nature 
 to be so — but she was very melancholy, 
 and treated Theresa as if forgiving and 
 condoning some offence which had to be 
 kept out of sight. 
 
 Katie had glimmerings that her sister 
 had done something heroic, but at the 
 same time she was bent on defending 
 herself from being improved, rightly 
 divining that such was Theresa's desire, 
 and, to tell the truth, that which gave 
 her the most consolation. Thus the in- 
 valid indulged in being more than usually 
 cross whenever any rational occupation 
 was proposed to her, and looked with 
 mistrust on every book that was put in 
 86 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 her way. Nor was Theresa in a frame 
 to bear petulant folly with patience, and 
 she administered a sharp scolding, which 
 made Katie cry, and much displeased her 
 mother. 
 
 The answer came at last. It was very 
 short — 
 
 ' My dear Theresa — I quite under- 
 stand that you were very much shocked 
 by this discovery, and I am sure you 
 were not to blame, and have acted up- 
 rightly. I enclose a cheque for this last 
 quarter. Of the future I can say nothing 
 at present, as it is decided that my sister 
 
 is to take me to consult H , the 
 
 great oculist. My sister is writing about 
 Cora. — Yours ever, 
 
 ^Th. F. M. St. Lo.' 
 
 Therewith came an extremely dry and 
 formal note from Mrs. Tresham to their 
 mother, giving the needful directions 
 about Cora's journey, and explaining 
 how she should be met at Newminster 
 > by the mistress of her boarding-house. 
 It was plain that her education was still 
 to be carried on, and Theresa felt that 
 this proved that the family meant to do 
 
 87 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 strict justice to the sister who was really 
 a relation, and to keep their promises. 
 How was it with regard to herself and 
 her mother? Her heart ached over it 
 indescribably with the affection she had 
 learned only to have it rejected, and 
 sense of shame undeserved. Her mother 
 was a little consoled by finding that Cora 
 was not to be cast off ; but she could 
 not cease to sigh over Theresa's having 
 thrown away her chances, though, in the 
 hope that all was not at an end, she 
 seized gladly on the explanation that 
 her daughter was at home because Miss' 
 St. Lo was gone to a German oculist. 
 
 Theresa was resolved that, whatever 
 might betide, she would spend part of 
 this twenty pounds, whether the last or 
 not, in lessons in music, and in making 
 her French usefully grammatical. More- 
 over, her taste in books had been suffi- 
 ciently improved not to be limited to 
 Katie's favourites, and she started for 
 the station bookstall, where she had 
 seen cheap copies of some of the authors 
 whose works she had beheld at the 
 Manor in robes of gilt calf clothing 
 their many volumes. Work might 
 88 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 perhaps do something, she thought, to 
 stifle her regrets and yearnings, and at 
 any rate it was a duty. She was looking 
 over the piles of books, when a train 
 came in, and, as the travellers tumbled 
 out at the junction, or rushed for their 
 places, she shrank out of the way, when 
 suddenly she heard her name in a well- 
 known voice. 
 
 ' Roland ! ' she exclaimed, as her heart 
 bounded. 
 
 ' I was sure ! I knew that pheasant's 
 breast ! ' 
 
 ' You ought, for you shot it ! But ' 
 
 ' Fm on my way to Exeter ; but I 
 thought I would look in between two 
 trains, just for a sight of you. Tm 
 lucky ! ' 
 
 ' Oh ! oh ! — thank you ! ' she cried, 
 "in confusion. ' But you know ' 
 
 ^ Of course I do ! A pretty row 
 about it ! Come out of the way, where 
 one can speak.' 
 
 ' Oh ! tell me, tell me ! ' — as they 
 moved off the platform — 'were they 
 dreadfully angry ? ' 
 
 ^Not with you — at least, they were 
 struck all of a heap. But my father — 
 
 89 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 yes, and Aunt Terry, said it was a brave 
 thing in you to do, and so of course it was.' 
 
 ' I couldn't help it.' 
 
 ^ That was the very thing ! ' 
 
 ^ Oh ! and are dear Miss St. Lo's 
 eyes very bad ? ' 
 
 ' She has got blue spectacles. I think 
 they are worse. Alice says she must 
 have cried half the night, and nothing 
 will serve my mother but carrying her 
 off to Germany. I believe it is to divert 
 her mind as much as her eyes. Resa is 
 to go with them, and Alice is to stay at 
 home to look after my father.' 
 
 * Here is the way home ; come and see 
 the girls — your real cousins, you know ! ' 
 
 * Hang it ! Now I've met you, I 
 don't want to ; I've only an hour to 
 spare. Can't we go somewhere and 
 talk?' 
 
 Theresa detected with some pain that 
 he had no desire to encounter her mother, 
 or to waste this very brief visit in intro- 
 ductions; but she was glad enough of 
 the meeting, and of being able to talk 
 freely ; and she led the way to a lane 
 that afforded shade on one side. 
 
 ' Did you bring me any message ' she 
 90 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 asked, with anxious speech, when he 
 • seemed inclined to spend these precious 
 minutes in vague observations. 
 
 ' Message ? No — I came quite pro- 
 miscuous, as old nurse says — just to see 
 how you were getting on.' 
 
 ^ It was very good of you.' 
 
 ' I couldn't help it ! I say, what a 
 rum house that is — like pie-crust ! ' 
 
 ' Did you say vou were going to 
 Exeter?' 
 
 ' Yes. Manoeuvres on Dartmoor are 
 coming off, you know.' 
 
 On these same manoeuvres he expa- 
 tiated, evidently in an odd shy state, 
 not exactly knowing what to talk of, and 
 yet it was so comfortable to have him 
 there that Theresa would have been 
 perfectly content without a word. She 
 mentioned the plans about Cora. 
 
 ' Oh, ay ! I hope she will be jolly 
 at Newminster. Alice will go and see 
 her — perhaps have her out for a Sunday 
 to play with Lucy.' 
 
 ' That would be very kind.' 
 
 They took another turn, this time in 
 silence. Minutes were passing, and it 
 was felt to be expedient to approach the 
 
 91 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 station. They were close within hearing 
 of the sounds, when Roland said : — 
 
 ^ Look here, Theresa, don't be down- 
 hearted. You've been a regular brick, 
 besides being the j oiliest girl in the 
 world. They'll get over that ridiculous 
 mistake in time — in fact, my aunt has 
 almost done so already ; and, whether 
 they do or not, I mean to come back as 
 soon as I get my company, and make 
 you really one of us out and out. By 
 Jove ! ' 
 
 With which last exclamation he wrung 
 her hand, and ran down the slope just as 
 a train was coming in ; whether the right 
 one or not Theresa never knew, so entirely 
 was she astonished and bewildered. 
 
 There was nothing for it but to walk 
 home, all in a glow, not only from the 
 heat of the summer day. That she was 
 infinitely happier was quite certain, what- 
 ever this might forebode. All the utter 
 desolate, forsaken feeling was gone. 
 There was one who cared for her, and 
 in her first joy she knew that his caring 
 for her was more than all besides. 
 
 Was she bound to mention what had 
 passed ^. She had an extreme reluctance. 
 92 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Her mother would make so much of it, 
 and that she could not bear. While as 
 to his own family 
 
 No ! no ! no ! She was out or their 
 way, out of his reach ! It would not be 
 fair towards him to take up those words 
 which might have meant nothing — though 
 the world grew black at the thought. He 
 was only twenty-one. Youths did talk 
 nonsense (oh! was it nonsense?). No, 
 unless anything more happened, as if he 
 were in earnest, she was bound to take 
 no notice, and not bring down displeasure 
 on him. She might keep her heart warm 
 with her happy secret without being false 
 to any one. 
 
 When she went in, she was of course 
 asked what had kept her out so long, 
 and she replied : — 
 
 ' Mr. Roland Tresham was waiting 
 for the Exeter train, so we walked about 
 Duckett's Lane.' 
 
 ^Mr. Roland Tresham? Oh!' said 
 her mother. 
 
 ^ Yes ; his regiment is to be on Dart- 
 moor. How hot it is ! ' 
 
 ' I should think so, frying in that 
 lane ! ' said Katie. ' It is bad enough 
 
 93 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 here. And you have not brought me a 
 new book.' 
 
 * I forgot. I beg your pardon, Katie ; 
 ril go again to-morrow.' 
 
 Mrs. St. Lo said no more to her 
 eldest daughter, of whom she was begin- 
 ning to be a Httle in awe ; but when 
 Theresa had gone to take off her hat, 
 Katie, the learned in novels, exclaimed: — 
 
 ' Forgot ! And Roland Tresham ! 
 Oh, mamma ! ' 
 
 Mrs. St. Lo smiled, but said : ' Mind, 
 Katie, not a word to Terry. She has 
 such ideas. She is so tenacious. One 
 hint to her would make her upset all 
 her chances again/ 
 
 94 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Theresa's spirits rose now that this 
 undefined hope had dawned on her, 
 whether of reconciliation, or she knew 
 not what. At any rate, it was to her 
 like the first gleam of light in a dark 
 passage, so that she could go on her way 
 cheerfully, hoping though she heard 
 nothing. 
 
 Newspapers, except the little weekly 
 county paper, did not come much in 
 her way, but whenever she had a chance, 
 she kept watch on the Dartmoor campaign 
 as if it had been in an enemy's country, 
 and scanned the Graphics months old 
 for one especial regiment, where she 
 might try to identify one especial 
 lieutenant. However, she went on with 
 her music lessons and her French class 
 
 95 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 diligently, and whether it was that she 
 could treat the matter with more liveli- 
 ness and good nature, or that Katie's 
 opposition to precept and example was 
 wearing out, there was a difference in 
 that quarter. Perhaps, however, the 
 chief influence was from a young clergy- 
 man who had arrived, earnest about 
 higher religious teaching, and to establish 
 classes for the so-called educated. There 
 was no element of flirtation, for he was 
 known to be engaged ; but Katie would 
 do that, under the new excitement of a 
 gentleman's persuasion, which she could 
 not think of for a sister. 
 
 Theresa's management made it possible 
 for her to attend the classes, and the actual 
 change of scene and sight of other young 
 girls were new life and interest to her. 
 She threw herself into the preparation, 
 with something of the spirit of competi- 
 tion, but more of hope of Mr. Collier's 
 approbation ; and as she began to 
 perceive the depths of her own ignorance, 
 she was inclined to read so much that 
 her mother began to be alarmed, and to 
 caution Theresa ; but by and by could 
 not help acknowledging that her darling 
 
 96 
 
The Rubies of Sl Lo 
 
 had never been so good-tempered, so 
 contented, or so little ailing before, ever 
 since that terrible fall down the hatch- 
 way of the Marina. 
 
 So passed the time, with very happy 
 letters from Cora, the only way in which 
 Theresa heard anything of her friends. 
 Cora was liked by the youngest Tresham 
 girl, and spent most of her Sundays 
 at the Archdeacon's parsonage. It was 
 from her that Theresa learnt that 
 Roland's regiment was to be at Ply- 
 mouth, and he would not have leave for 
 a long time. Thus there was no hope 
 of another junction meeting. Also she 
 heard in time that Miss St. Lo was not 
 much better for the German treatment, 
 and that the German regimen did not 
 agree with her ; then, that she was ill, 
 and that the Archdeacon was going to 
 escort the party home ; then, that they 
 had arrived ; and next, that poor Aunt 
 Terry, as the Treshams called her, was 
 really very ill. 
 
 Theresa was very anxious, and at the 
 end of another week, rather more than a 
 year after her first summons to Northam 
 Manor, there came a letter which, at the 
 97 H 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 first glance at the outside, she knew to 
 be from Mrs. Tresham, the person whom 
 she had always imagined, by the omission 
 of any kind message, to feel the most 
 resentment. She opened it in trembling, 
 and thus she read : — 
 
 ' Dear Theresa — You will be sorry 
 to hear that my sister has been seriously 
 ill, and still is far from recovered, though 
 we have good reason to hope that much 
 may be the temporary effect of diet, and 
 of the drains in the hotels. Her eyes 
 are at present in a painful and almost use- 
 less condition, but this is in great part 
 the effect of her state of health, and will, 
 we hope, pass with her improvement. 
 Meanwhile she is very anxious for your 
 return ; I must soon leave her ; and she 
 says that no one is so accustomed to her 
 ways, or can attend to her wants so well 
 as you can. Thus she hopes that you 
 can return to her in your former posi- 
 tion, on the same terms as previously ; 
 and I well know that you perfectly 
 understand the present situation, though 
 I repeat that we all acquit you of all 
 blame, and feel grateful for your up- 
 
 98 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 rightness. I should be glad to know by 
 return of post how soon you can come, 
 as I am much needed at home, and she 
 is longing for you. — Yours sincerely, 
 ' K. H. Tresham.' 
 
 Theresa's colour rose with gladness as 
 she read, and Katie watching her ex- 
 claimed : ' Oh dear ! oh dear ! I knew it. 
 The old lady wants you back ; horrid old 
 thing ! ' 
 
 * She is ill and blind and wants me ! 
 Katie dear, I can't help being glad, all 
 except for you.' 
 
 *Just as I was learning to be good, 
 and to get on,' lamented Katie. ' I shall 
 not care without you.' 
 
 ^ Oh yes, you will, Katie ; you will 
 have Mr. Collier, and all the girls, and you 
 will send the questions to me to answer.' 
 
 ' I wonder you like to go back. You 
 will only be a companion, and not a 
 cousin.' 
 
 'So I should always have been. In- 
 deed, 1 don't think dear Miss St. Lo 
 will make any difference. And she 
 wants me ! ' cried Theresa, as a clinching 
 argument. 
 
 99 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ^ I want you/ sighed Katie. 
 
 * Darling Kate ! Yes, but only think 
 how much good my first going has done. 
 And you are the true cousin, you know, 
 the real Miss St. Lo.' 
 
 Katie was forced to submit, for, of 
 course, there was no doubt as to 
 Theresa's going on her own merits now, 
 not as a distant relation or an experiment. 
 
 Would Mrs. Tresham have consented 
 if she had known of that strange little 
 meeting and parting To write it was 
 impossible ; it would only seem like 
 attaching consequence to it. 
 
 The name had not given much 
 trouble. Theresa scrupulously signed 
 herself Lowe, and had told several per- 
 sons that she was only half-sister to Kate 
 and Cora ; but nobody much cared, after 
 a little gossip, and besides, almost every- 
 body called her by her Christian name 
 at Wallbridge, nor were they always 
 particular in giving the family their 
 saintly prefix. She insisted on address- 
 ing her boxes by her true name, wonder- 
 ing a little how the Manor servants 
 would take it. She foresaw a good deal 
 of mortification, but the thought of 
 
 lOO 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 being wanted by her dear Miss St. Lo 
 might well make up for all. 
 
 Besides, there was that undefined 
 thought drawing her to the Manor. 
 There would be perplexity, there would 
 probably be long weary waiting, there 
 would very likely be disappointment, 
 but at any rate he had once said those 
 words, he had once wished it, she should 
 always know that, and she would be 
 among his own people and hear of him. 
 
 lOI 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 There was real welcome for Theresa in 
 the looks of the old coachman as he 
 touched his hat to her, and every tree in 
 its autumn coat looked familiar. 
 
 The butler smiled benignly in re- 
 sponse to her greeting, and threw open 
 the door of the room, fire-lit, as she first 
 had seen it. Resa, a bright young girl, 
 met her with a doubtful kiss, and Mrs. 
 Tresham came forward with a shake 
 of the hand, and Miss St. Lo, rising 
 from an arm-chair, held out her arms, 
 kissed her warmly, set her down by 
 her side, and said in her own old 
 '0^.. tones: ^My dear child! Now I shall 
 be comfortable.' Then with a little 
 laugh : ' That's Lady Bertram. Ah ! 
 you have not read Mansfield Park? 
 
 I02 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Never mind, it is the first book you shall 
 read to me.' 
 
 It was the dear well-known voice, but 
 there was a shrunken, aged look about 
 the face and figure, and the eyes were 
 shaded with large blue spectacles; Theresa 
 ventured a hope that she was better. 
 
 ' I am better already since I came 
 home again,' said she. ^Tell me how 
 your sister is.' 
 
 So there was family talk, and Theresa 
 was rested, and drank tea, and was told 
 by and by that her own room was ready 
 for her, while her namesake collected her 
 wraps and went up with her to the 
 chamber that looked doubly delicious after 
 her bare shabby one at Wallbridge. 
 
 ' Oh ! I am glad you are come ! ' cried 
 Resa, as they stood over the fire. ' No- 
 body, except mother, seems to suit Aunt 
 Terry so well. When she was at the 
 worst, and not quite herself, she used to 
 keep on murmuring, "Where's Terry?" 
 or, " Theresa has done nothing wrong. 
 Bring back Theresa " ; and father had a 
 great mind to send for you.' % 
 
 ' Where was that } ' 
 
 ' At Cologne. It was there that she 
 103 
 
The Rubies of St, Lo 
 
 was so very bad ; and it was so miser- 
 able in the hotel. I never was so glad 
 as when at last we could get away/ 
 
 'And she asked for me?' repeated 
 Theresa. 
 
 ' Oh yes ! Father really thought we 
 ought to have you, only it would have 
 been so difficult about your journey, and 
 mother ' 
 
 ' Ah ! I thought your mother was the 
 most displeased with me.' 
 
 ' She always says you were not to blame 
 about that. But somehow, I believe she 
 thinks you went on with Roland. Oh ! ' 
 
 Miss Resa gave a violent start as a 
 maid knocked at the door, and the 
 vehemence with which she proceeded to 
 handle Theresa's bag showed a guilty 
 consciousness of chatter having led her 
 too far. Theresa's cheeks were in a 
 flame ; but when she reflected, her first 
 indignation and consternation gave way 
 before the remembrance that Mrs. Tres- 
 ham could only be arguing from the 
 effect on Roland himself. 
 
 No more was heard from the young 
 lady, who departed with her mother the 
 next morning ; and then a life com- 
 104 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 menced which would have been very 
 dull except for the strong affection 
 Theresa had for Miss St. Lo. 
 
 Things were much changed since last 
 autumn. Whether it were from illness 
 or advancing years, the active habits of 
 body, though not of mind, were laid 
 aside. Miss St. Lo breakfasted in bed, 
 and though rising soon after, did not 
 come downstairs till her early dinner-time, 
 needed rest after it, and then a few turns 
 in the sunny, sheltered garden, or a drive 
 in the brougham, seemed all that she was 
 fit for on fine days. Visitors interested 
 but tired her, and the long evening 
 passed in music, reading aloud, and 
 chess, sometimes backgammon ; but a 
 game needing brain was the only real 
 pleasure to the lively nature. 
 
 Theresa had full occupation in bear- 
 ing forth messages to the village and 
 school, bringing back questions and re- 
 ports, acting secretary, and amusing 
 Miss St. Lo, who took undiminished in- 
 terest in all that was going on, and 
 especially in the Wallbridge Church 
 history class, helping Theresa to look 
 out what was wanted in books, and 
 105 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 caring much for her desire to keep Katie 
 from flagging. 
 
 Of Katie, indeed, she thought much. 
 Her doctor, under whose care she was 
 advancing towards recovery of health, 
 was a very old friend, now getting on in 
 years, and gradually resigning his prac- 
 tice to his nephew, a clever young sur- 
 geon fresh from the hospitals. Miss St. 
 Lo enjoyed keeping her friend, Dr. 
 Vereker, to her afternoon tea, and having 
 a good long talk with him, ranging from 
 politics to books, science, or the gossip 
 of the neighbourhood, and charitable 
 undertakings. It so happened that he 
 could not help telling, with consider- 
 able exultation, of his young nephew's 
 management of a long-standing spine 
 affection, brought on by an accident, and 
 this led to Miss St. Lo's saying : — 
 
 'That is just like your sister, 
 Theresa.' 
 
 ' Indeed, it is,' said Theresa, who had 
 been listening with a face all eagerness ; 
 and then the particulars of Katie's 
 history were unfolded, and laid before 
 the doctor, who, like his kind, asked 
 questions but made no comment. 
 1 06 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 It was not till the next day that 
 Miss St. Lo said : — 
 
 ^ Terry, my dear, I have been think- 
 ing. Would your mother consent to 
 our having little Katharine here for a 
 time to try young John Vereker's treat- 
 ment ? ' 
 
 Theresa could not find words to 
 thank. She clasped her hands, looked 
 ecstatic, and fell on her friend with a 
 silent, rapturous kiss. She had no 
 doubts that, however mortified her 
 mother might be at the invitation not 
 being extended to her, she would thank- 
 fully embrace such a hope for Katie ; and 
 Miss St. Lo was so much better that it 
 would be quite possible to attend to 
 both. 
 
 'We must have a room arranged 
 where you two can feel at home,' said 
 Miss St. Lo. ' I wonder which would 
 be best.' 
 
 ' I think, if you please,' said Theresa, 
 ' it should be on this upper floor, be- 
 cause then Katie could lie out on the 
 outside gallery on fine days, without 
 having to go downstairs. There is al- 
 ways some place warm and sheltered, 
 107 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 and she would be so much amused by 
 the pigeons and the cats.' 
 
 Miss St. Lo laughed at this lively 
 entertainment, but manifested her im- 
 provement by setting off with Theresa 
 on a progress along the corridor to select 
 the apartment. The best rooms, still 
 guest chambers, were, of course, not 
 thought of ; and these, with Miss St. 
 Lo's own, occupied the storey above the 
 drawing-room ; but the next side of the 
 quandrangle was little used, and at the 
 corner there was a quaint little room on 
 which Theresa set her affections. It was 
 the next to the stone outdoor stair, and 
 gave easy access to two sides of the 
 gallery, so as to suit either way of the 
 weather ; and the window, having once 
 been also a doorway, could easily be 
 restored to the same purpose again. 
 
 The walls were in panelled wainscot- 
 ting, mostly in drapery pattern, but with 
 the St. Lo shield in the centre of each 
 one now. Those below it, at about the 
 height of a dado, were carved in bas- 
 relief with Scripture scenes — Adam and 
 Eve, with the serpent coiled round the 
 tree ; Noah with an ark about half his 
 io8 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 own size, and a lion in ringlets heading 
 the procession about to enter it ; Re- 
 bekah drawing water from a round well 
 for a very queer, supercilious camel ; 
 David killing the lion, who was killing 
 the bear for him, with much more to be 
 studied at leisure ; but the room was 
 quite unfurnished. 
 
 ' Dame Theresa's chamber,' said Miss 
 St. Lo. 
 
 ^ And a delightful one!' cried Theresa. 
 ' She had good taste. Why has no one 
 used it ? I hope it is not haunted ! ' 
 
 *Oh no — I never heard of ghosts 
 here ! Don't put that into Katie's head. 
 I imagine that the neighbourhood to the 
 stairs was disliked, and then people took 
 a distaste to dark oak, and thought it 
 melancholy. I am thankful that they 
 did not paint all this white, like the east 
 room.' 
 
 ^ Perhaps Arabella's conscience would 
 not let her inhabit it,' responded Theresa. 
 ' You see there's a door here which 
 might be opened into my room, and 
 Katie might either sleep with me, or 
 have the little room beyond, so as to be 
 within call. Oh, what fun it will be! 
 109 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 And if she should really get better ! ' 
 and Theresa fairly danced about the 
 floor, as if she had a great mind to whirl 
 her old friend round. 
 
 'Well, we will send for Hayes, and 
 see what is to be done.' 
 
 Hayes was the estate carpenter, and 
 was one of the most honest and most 
 dilatory of men. When he was hunted 
 up from gratifying a farmer's wife with a 
 bow window, he pronounced that there 
 was a great deal to be done before the 
 room could be fit for a lady, and, to 
 begin with, wanted to take down ' all 
 that there old 'oodwork,' and paper it 
 with one of the genteel, cheerful patterns 
 he had just had sent down to him. 
 The new grate, which might send the 
 warmth into the room instead of up the 
 chimney, was granted ; but with as little 
 damage as might be to the blue- and - 
 white Dutch tiles. 
 
 no 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 The mother had consented, though not 
 without a hint to Theresa that she ought 
 to be the person asked to watch over her 
 child. Katie had accepted with trepida- 
 tion, but with hope and joy ; and as soon 
 as all was ready, Theresa was to go and 
 fetch her. 
 
 Quite unexpectedly one ' blind man's 
 holiday ' in December the drawing-room 
 door was opened by Roland Tresham. 
 
 ^Yes, here's the bad shilling, Aunt 
 Terry. I've wrung out my leave from 
 the Colonel for Christmas, so I thought 
 I'd come this way to have a squint at you 
 and Theresa and the pheasants.' 
 
 * You were afraid the pheasants would 
 miss your attentions,' said his aunt, 
 laughing. 
 
 Ill 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 'Poor things — exactly so' — as the 
 greetings wete exchanged, a kiss to the 
 elder Theresa, and a squeeze to the hand 
 of the younger, whose blush of confused 
 joy might pass for fire-scorching. Had 
 this arrival been unannounced beforehand 
 for fear it should be hindered ? However, 
 all went on so well and naturally in the 
 evening that consciousness died away in 
 pleasure, and Theresa laughed as freely as 
 her aunt over the young man's fun. 
 
 There was the tete-a-tete breakfast in 
 the morning, when both were downstairs 
 in preternaturally good time, and discussed 
 the weather as well as how soon the keeper 
 would be hunted up. He was not likely 
 to come late, since he had been distressed 
 at the neglect of the game. 'Just a 
 temptation in the way of they poachers ! 
 I say it is sinful,' he had observed to 
 Theresa one day, when she had met him 
 disconsolately stalking through the fields. 
 
 * What's that hammering ^. ' by and by 
 Roland asked. 
 
 'Oh! didn't we tell you.? Miss St. 
 Lo is having that corner room, the 
 dark wainscotted one — Dame Theresa's 
 she calls it — set to rights for my sister 
 
 112 
 
The Rubies of Sl Lo 
 
 Katie to come and be under young Dr. 
 Vereker.' 
 
 * I say ! She is not to put your nose 
 out of joint, is she 
 
 ' Oh no ! Poor dear Katie, she is not 
 in a state to be of use to anybody. It is 
 only Miss St. Lo's kindness.' 
 
 * I remember ! She has a spine, I think.' 
 ' Exactly so, and this young doctor has 
 
 been treating just such a case. And it 
 will be so delightful to have Katie here.' 
 
 * As long as she does not put you out ! 
 Now look, Theresa, at that picture ! I do 
 believe you are as much a St. Lo as any 
 of us ! Fm sure you are nearer the Saint 
 than any of the lot. No — now, why 
 should you not be } Didn't one of them 
 go out and settle in the States } ' 
 
 * Oh ! nonsense, Roland. Why, my 
 father's name was Elijah Cicero ! ' 
 
 'Well! if it had been Methuselah 
 Demosthenes, would that hinder him 
 from being the son or grandson of that 
 runaway St. Lo? People did make 
 havoc of good names in Yankee-land! 
 Taillebois into Tallboys, and so on. 
 Now, look up there at Dame Theresa 
 and tell me if you have the face 
 113 I 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 to say she isn't your great great grand- 
 mother ? ' 
 
 ' Oh ! don't talk of her, or you will 
 set me dreaming of her again.' 
 
 ' Indeed ! Do you think she would 
 take the trouble to make you dream of 
 her if she was not your granny ? What 
 does she say to you ? ' 
 
 * Nothing in particular. I wish she did ; 
 she might tell me where to find the rubies.' 
 
 * Ah ! depend upon it, what she wants 
 to tell you is that you are the real genuine 
 article, no mistake, and that there's one 
 way to make it all right.' 
 
 ' Now, Roland, please don't ' — at his 
 gesture rather than his words. ' You 
 know it is not right in you — your 
 mother ' 
 
 ' My mother cannot say one word 
 against your being the very best and 
 jolliest of girls — the only one I ever saw 
 that didn't make a fool of herself, one 
 way or another.' 
 
 ' That's no praise,' said Theresa, laugh- 
 ing. ^ What a ridiculous creature it would 
 be never to make a fool of herself.' 
 
 'You know what I mean. No 
 absurdities, shamming being a man, and 
 114 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 all that, or else having disgusting under- 
 hand ways.' 
 
 'You know you are just going the 
 way to make me underhand. It is not 
 fair towards your aunt or any of them to 
 talk, or for me to listen to, what they 
 would not like.' 
 
 ' I'm sure all the world is welcome to 
 hear me.' 
 
 At that moment the door opened and 
 in walked Miss St. Lo. Of course they 
 both jumped up to welcome her, and the 
 butler came in after her with cup and 
 plate. 
 
 ^ There, Roland, you see what I have 
 achieved in honour of you,' she said. 
 She had evidently come down unsus- 
 piciously, though no doubt actuated by 
 the sense that it might be better not to 
 leave the two young people to breakfast 
 alone together ; and in spite of what 
 Roland had said he did not pursue the 
 subject, but no doubt was glad of the 
 diversion created by the arrival of the 
 post, and presently after by a message 
 that the keeper was waiting for him. 
 Asking his aunt to excuse him, he went 
 off to the interview. Theresa sat on, with 
 115 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 a high colour, fresher than even her morn- 
 ing face required, as she considered how 
 far truth and honour required her to speak 
 of what had passed. However, she was 
 so far spared the decision by Miss St. Lo 
 saying presently: 'My dear, I am afraid 
 Roland has been talking nonsense to you.' 
 
 ' Oh, Miss St. Lo, what shall I do ? 
 
 I am of No, I can't say that, but 
 
 I think he means it. I can't help it.' 
 
 ' Poor child ! ' Miss St. Lo said kindly. 
 ' I know I may depend on you. Tell me 
 if anything of this kind has passed 
 before.' 
 
 Theresa related the meeting at the 
 station, and the final words, adding : ' I 
 hope it was not wrong in me to say no- 
 thing about it, but it seemed as if I ought 
 not to make a fuss about it ; and I could 
 not bear to do so either.' 
 
 There was a sound of assent, not un- 
 kind but perhaps vexed. 
 
 ' I wondered if I ought to mention it 
 when I was sent for,' continued Theresa ; 
 * but I hardly could. You were ill, and 
 I thought I had better wait till something 
 showed whether there was any need.' 
 
 ' You were right, I think, my dear. 
 ii6 
 
The Rubies of Sl Lo 
 
 There is no reason for me to be displeased 
 with you/ said Miss St. Lo, turning from 
 the table and holding out her arms, so that 
 Theresa could come and receive her kiss, 
 just as the tears began to start. ' I suppose 
 he has not said much more now, naughty 
 boy; 
 
 ' N — no,' was half breathed forth, and 
 Miss St. Lo went on : * I must talk to 
 him, and show him that any way he is 
 putting us all in what he would call 
 a fix.' 
 
 ' Oh ! Miss St. Lo, don't, pray don't 
 let it upset poor Katie's chance, though 
 you might send me home. My mother 
 would look after her, and, indeed, I don't 
 think you would dislike her. She is very 
 gentle and kind, and though it was not 
 right about me, I believe she half-forgot 
 that I didn't belong, and really did not 
 understand that it was of consequence. 
 She is very good, and did everything to 
 make us good. I could go home and 
 get teaching to do, only do have Katie ! 
 She is a real one ! ' 
 
 * My dear, my dear, don't run on so fast ! 
 Let me think what is to be done. I 
 don't see that persecuting you would be a 
 117 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 cure for Roland. Indeed, I don't see 
 
 why — if you were both older ' 
 
 There she broke off. * Only I must 
 consider what is fair towards his parents, 
 and talk to him. In short, we had better 
 go about our morning's business, and then 
 I can settle down better to think it over.' 
 
 ^ If you please, ma'am, Mr. Hayes , 
 would be glad to speak to you.' 
 
 ii8 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 What Mr. Hayes had to say was that 
 in going over the old woodwork of the 
 wainscotted room, he had come upon one 
 panel that he was certain was really a 
 door. Between the frame and the 
 carving he had detected something mov- 
 able, and when he tapped on it, there 
 was a hollow sound quite different from 
 what could be made on the rest. 
 
 ' Therefore, I should like to know if it 
 is your will that it should be broke open, 
 ma'am ; and if it be, I should wish as 
 some of the fammerly was present, for 
 sometimes there's been a talk, when they 
 secret hiding-places has been found, as 
 how them that opened them hadn't dealt 
 fair.' 
 
 * I am sure you would never do so, 
 119 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Hayes/ returned Miss St. Lo ; ' but I 
 should like very much to see the place 
 opened, for the curiosity of the thing. 
 I wonder whether my nephew is still 
 within call ? Wait a minute for him.' 
 
 Roland proved to have been delayed 
 by some of the paraphernalia of sport 
 being fetched, and he came bounding up 
 the outside stair to find his aunt, in her 
 blue spectacles, standing with Theresa in 
 the midst of shavings, glue-pot, and tools, 
 with a background of servants, and Hayes 
 demonstrating that the panel, which was 
 the one with Rebekah upon it, was wider 
 than the rest, and from some shrinking 
 of age, or perhaps nibbling of rats, would 
 move as if it ought to open, but was 
 withheld by a fastening somewhere. 
 
 One after another, each felt round the 
 panel and tried to move it, but only to 
 push it just enough to be tantalising, and 
 to make it evident that it was dependent 
 on some spring. Hayes was for cutting it 
 out, or forcing away the obstruction, and 
 Roland's impatience seconded him ; but 
 Miss St. Lo was averse to destructive 
 measures, and was thinking of sending for 
 some skilled workman, when Theresa's 
 1 20 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 eyes fell on Rebekah's well, which was 
 represented in the carving as a circular 
 wall with a hole at the top, and a memory 
 of those half-spoken dying words of 
 Dame Theresa rose in her mind and made 
 her put her finger into the cavity, where 
 she felt something of metal which yielded 
 in some degree as she pressed it. 
 
 'I do believe this is the spring,' she 
 cried ; and, indeed, a quivering of the 
 panel responded. ^ It wants a stronger 
 finger,' she said ; but at her last farewell 
 pressure the spring yielded, the panel 
 shrank back, and on a vigorous push 
 from Roland it fell open, leaving a space, 
 not entirely dark. 
 
 * The priest's chamber ! ' exclaimed 
 Miss St. Lo. ' There was said to be one 
 used when we were Roman Catholics ! 
 Can we get in ' 
 
 It was a very small opening, and no 
 one present except Theresa seemed lithe 
 enough or slight enough to scramble in 
 and encounter two hundred years of 
 dust ; but, of course, she did not hesitate, 
 and, gathering up her skirts, managed to 
 enter, and found herself in a tiny den in 
 the thickness of the wall at the corner. 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 lighted in some way from far above ; 
 with a hearth, a table, a chair, and a bed- 
 stead, and on the table, smothered in 
 dust, stood a white-looking box. She 
 took it up, and, by feeling rather than 
 sight, discovered that it was of carved 
 ivory, and something hung to it — a little 
 gold key. 
 
 ' Oh, oh ! ' she cried. ' No, don't try 
 to come in yet, Roland. Let me out. 
 Here's something ! ' 
 
 She was half- choked with dust as 
 Roland dragged her out, and one of the 
 maids flew at her with a duster ; but she 
 diverted the cleansing to the box — a 
 beautifully carved ivory casket as it now 
 appeared to be. 
 
 ' Open it ! Oh, you ought to open 
 it ! ' cried Theresa, putting the key into 
 Miss St. Lo's hand ; but the old lady was 
 trembling with agitation, and between 
 that and her imperfect sight, her hand 
 had to be guided to insert the key in the 
 keyhole, and then she could not turn it 
 in the disused lock. It was Roland who 
 did so, but he held back that she might 
 raise the lid. 
 
 A yellowed paper lay at the top, and 
 
 122 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 beneath in a bed of black velvet lay a red, 
 sparkling cross of dark red stones, placed 
 in the centre of a collar of equally bright 
 gems of the same radiant hue. 
 
 *The rubies of St. Lo,' burst from 
 three pair of lips ; but all hung back, 
 unwilling as it were to touch the long- 
 lost jewels ; and Roland, who held the 
 paper, read aloud from the writing in a 
 large hand, in ink brown with age : — 
 
 * I have hidden King Henry's rubies to 
 save them from the profanation of being 
 exchanged for glass imitations to defray 
 gambling debts. I trust that when they 
 are restored to light it will be by the 
 hands of one of my descendants who has 
 never soiled her lips with falsehood. 
 
 'Theresa St. Lo. 
 ^June i^thy A.D. 1759.' 
 
 They all stood still for a moment. 
 
 ' The well ! ' exclaimed Miss St. Lo. 
 ' That was what she meant.' 
 
 ' The truth,' said Roland, and so say- 
 ing his bold fingers raised King Henry's 
 collar from its velvet bed, and threw it 
 over Theresa's neck. 
 
 123 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 ' Oh, don't, don't ! ' she cried, holding 
 it so as to hinder him from clasping it. 
 ' No, take it off, I ought not ' 
 
 * By all rights you ought, as I believe,' 
 said Roland. * You believe so too, Aunt 
 Theresa.' 
 
 ^ Leave the clasp as yet, my dear boy,' 
 she answered, in a voice very near tears. 
 
 124 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 Why that treasure-trove should have 
 altered everything, it might be hard to 
 tell, but it certainly did so. There was 
 superstition enough in the family to 
 believe in their inmost spirits, even 
 while they derided the notion outwardly, 
 that it would never have come about if 
 Theresa had not been a veritable truth- 
 telling St. Lo. The Archdeacon and 
 Mrs. Tresham came to see the rubies, and 
 brought Cora. Moreover, the room being 
 finished, Mrs. St. Lo was invited herself 
 to bring Katie ; and even Mrs. Tresham 
 was obliged to allow that she was quiet, 
 unpresuming, and not unladylike. 
 
 Though it was understood that no- 
 thing really depended on whether Theresa 
 were Lowe or St. Lo, there was an ex- 
 
 125 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 amination of her mother as to the parent- 
 age of Elijah Cicero. She could tell 
 little except that his father had been a 
 doctor at Albany, and Theresa was an 
 old name in the family. Archdeacon 
 Tresham had, however, made several 
 friends among New England clergy visit- 
 ing England, and when Roland expressed 
 an intention of rushing oJfF to Albany to 
 hunt out the record, he thought the 
 matter would be safer in the hands of one 
 of these. 
 
 In due time arrived the tidings — 
 Elijah Cicero Lowe was the son of Philip 
 and Hoglah Lowe. Philip was the son 
 of Roland S. and Miriam Lowe ; and 
 this Roland was, it appeared, the orphan 
 of Henry Roland St. Lo, killed in the 
 battle of Brandy wine in 1779, and bred 
 up by his New England mother's rela- 
 tions. The Archdeacon's friend had found 
 old people able to remember the tradition 
 that the little boy, running about his 
 Puritan grandfather's house, belonged to 
 a grand English family, and that the 
 Saint in his name was eschewed as popish. 
 The descent of Elijah Cicero was perfectly 
 traceable, and he was remembered as a 
 126 
 
 'i 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 worthy young man who had obtained 
 education as an engineer, and had come 
 back to marry his girl-love on obtaining 
 a situation on the South American line 
 where he had met his death. 
 
 Thus Theresa was undoubtedly of the 
 elder branch, descended from the second 
 instead of the third grandson of the great 
 Dame Theresa. She looked rather terri- 
 fied on having it explained to her, but 
 was consoled by hearing that family wills 
 and settlements had provided against this 
 contingency of the runaway leaving heirs, 
 by bequeathing the estate to the third 
 son. 
 
 Moreover, Mrs. Tresham fully ac- 
 quiesced in Theresa St. Lo, penniless as 
 she was, being the fitting match for 
 Roland, who was to take the ancient 
 name. The aunt entreated that this 
 might not be deferred till she was no 
 longer among them. Her eyesight, 
 though not her health, was failing more 
 and more, and she not only wished to 
 keep Theresa with her, but the estate 
 needed a manager, and would give full 
 occupation to the heir, if he took up his 
 abode at the Manor. 
 
 127 
 
The Rubies of St. Lo 
 
 Thus it was that the next Easter 
 Roland and Theresa were made man and 
 wife in the little old church. Katie had, 
 under young Dr. Vereker's management, 
 improved enough to be able to be one of 
 the six delighted bridesmaids, who all 
 wore ruby-trimmed dresses ; while the 
 bride could not but submit to have 
 King Henry's ruby collar and cross 
 clasped upon her neck. 
 
 Moreover, as soon as the honeymoon 
 was over, Theresa was taken to London, 
 and there sat for her portrait in the rubies, 
 newly set for the occasion, as King Henry 
 VI. might have worn them, and sparkling 
 with all the lustre of truth. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Printed by R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh,