“We’ll be more careful, dear!  And here is your medicine before you have your supper.”

Aunt Amy turned cheerfully to the supper tray.

“Your mother need not be told about it,” she observed.  “She wouldn’t understand.  She was in a while ago to say she hoped I’d be better in the morning.  She is going to the city.  What she came for was to ask me to lend her my ruby ring.  She never understands why I can’t lend it to her.  I told her she might have the string of pearls and the pearl brooch and the ring with the little diamonds and anything else except the ruby.  You see, I might die before she got back, and I couldn’t die without the ruby ring on my finger.  I promised somebody—­I can’t remember whom—­”

“I know, dear, don’t try to remember.”

“Mary says it is shameful waste to leave it lying shut up in the box in my drawer.  But it has to lie there.  If I took it out now it would stop shining immediately.  And it must be all red and bright when I die, like a shining star in the dark.  Then, afterwards, you can have it, Esther.  You don’t mind waiting, do you?”

“Gracious!  I hope I’ll be an old woman before then!  So old that I shan’t care for ruby rings at all.”

Aunt Amy looked at the girl’s pretty hand wistfully.  “I’d like to give it to you right now, Esther.  But you know how it is.  I can’t.  If the red star did not shine I might lose my way.  Some one told me—­”

“I know, Auntie.  I quite understand.  And you have given me so many pretty things that I don’t need the ruby.”

“You may have anything else you want.  But of course the ruby is the loveliest of all.  If I could only remember who gave it to me—­”

“Perhaps you always had it,” suggested Esther, hastily, for she knew quite well the tragic history of the ruby.

“Perhaps.  But I don’t think so.  I love it but I never dare to look at it.  It makes the blackness come so near.  Does it make you feel that way?”

“No—­I don’t know—­large jewels often give people strange feelings they say.”

“Do they?” hopefully.  “Go and look at it now.  Don’t lift it out of the box.  Just open the lid and look in.  Perhaps you will feel something.”

Esther went obediently to the drawer where the beautiful jewel had lain ever since Aunt Amy’s arrival.  As no one outside knew of its existence it was considered quite safe to keep it in the house.  The box lay in a corner under a spotless pile of sweet smelling handkerchiefs.  Esther snapped open the lid of the case and looked in.  She looked close, closer still, bending over the open drawer—­

“Do you feel anything, Esther?”

The girl’s answer came, after a second’s pause, in a strained voice.  “The drawer is so dark, I can’t tell!”

“Take it to the window,” said Aunt Amy.

Esther lifted the case from the drawer and carried it into a better light.  Her eyes were panic-stricken.  For her indecision had been only a ruse to give herself time to think.  She had known the moment she opened the case that the ruby was gone!