Perhaps because she wished to prove her statement, she read the note aloud:
“If you and Kitty are free tomorrow and the Misses Gates have no objection, I shall drop in and take you for an airplane ride. Say about one o’clock, then we can have the entire afternoon. Dave.”
“Oh!” Kitty cried in delight. “I’ve always wanted to ride in a plane.”
“So have I,” Doris agreed enthusiastically. She glanced hopefully at Azalea and Iris. “May we go?”
“Why, certainly,” Azalea declared. “But aren’t you a little afraid?”
“Not with Dave,” Doris returned proudly. “Every one says he is a reliable pilot and I know he wouldn’t offer to take us if he didn’t know it would be safe.”
The girls had been so excited over the note that they had failed to keep track of Wags. Turning, they were amused to see him pawing energetically near the uprooted rhododendron bush. Dirt was flying in every direction.
“What’s that little rascal after now?” Doris laughed.
“Probably a bone.”
“I’ll go see.”
She crossed the garden just as Wags picked up something in his mouth.
“Here, Wags, bring it here!” Doris commanded.
Wags hesitated, debating whether or not to obey, and then came forward, dropping his offering at his mistress’s feet.
“What in the world!” Doris exclaimed.
She picked up the curious object. It was a tiny box, water soaked and badly stained, and bore evidence that it had been buried for some time. Yet, for all its disfigurement, Doris saw that it was a jewel box.
“Kitty!” she cried. “Come here!”
Her chum already was flying toward her.
“Look what the dog dug up!” Doris exclaimed in excitement. “It’s a jewel box!”
“Well, don’t stand there staring at it,” Kitty chided. “Open it quick!”
Doris lifted the lid and gave a little cry of wonder. She scarcely could believe her own eyes.
There, nestled in a cushion of faded blue silk, lay a beautiful ruby ring! Doris saw at a glance that it was a genuine stone, and valuable.
“A ring!” Kitty gasped. “Where did it come from?”
“Under that rhododendron bush. It must have been there for ages. See how old the case is.”
“What a perfectly gorgeous stone!” Kitty said, her eyes shining with admiration. “Some one must have lost it, don’t you think?”
“But it was buried,” Doris reminded her. “If we hadn’t uprooted that rhododendron bush, we’d never have discovered it.”
The excited comments of the girls had brought the Misses Gates hurrying across the yard. They too exclaimed in admiration as they saw the ring.
“Where did you get it?” Azalea asked tensely.
“I took it away from Wags,” Doris informed her. “It must have been buried under that bush.”
“But why was it put there?” Iris murmured. “I can’t understand it.”
“I thought perhaps it might have been a family jewel,” Doris suggested.
“Oh, no,” Azalea protested. “I never saw the ring before in my life.”
“Isn’t there any clue as to the identity of the owner?” Kitty questioned.
“There doesn’t seem to be,” Doris responded.
She lifted the ring from the tiny case and as she did so, noticed for the first time a scrap of paper, yellowed with age.
She read the name on it at a glance and a startled expression came into her eyes.
“It says ‘John,’” she said in a strained voice.
“John!”
Echoing the name, Azalea began to tremble. Iris’s face had gone chalk white.
Doris had turned the paper over and was reading something upon the back. The twins scarcely heard her.
“To my beloved sweetheart,” the note said, “the one I have chosen to be my wife. This ring is a sign of my decision. Please wear it always.”
“He did choose,” Doris declared tensely.
Azalea and Iris stood as motionless as statues.
“But which one?” Azalea murmured.
Doris looked again at the message. It was so old and yellow that it was difficult to make out the writing, but unquestionably neither of the twins had been mentioned by name. Her silence communicated this to the others.
“If only we had known—” Iris murmured brokenly. “What a difference it might have made. That fatal night when Father—”
She choked and could not go on.
“It’s the most beautiful ring I ever saw,” Kitty declared.
She restrained her enthusiasm, noting that it seemed to pain the Misses Gates.
“Of course it belongs to you,” Doris said quietly, “even though your names aren’t mentioned.” She extended the ring toward the two ladies.
Iris straightened proudly and Azalea turned coldly away.
“It doesn’t belong to me,” she said tartly.
“I won’t touch it!” Iris declared indignantly.
“But it must belong to one of you,” Doris insisted. “What shall we do with it?”
Azalea was already walking rapidly toward the house. Iris, as pale as a ghost and looking as though she were about to cry, likewise turned away.
“I don’t care what you do with it,” she said. “I’ll never touch it as long as I live!”
Doris and Kitty, left in possession of the ring, stared at it rather blankly.
“Well, of all things!” Kitty exclaimed. “Do you think they’ll change their minds?”
“I’m afraid not. This note and the ring have opened up old wounds. Now they’ll always be tortured by thinking of what might have been.”
Being hampered by no sentimental attachments themselves, the girls each tried on the ring. It was too large for Kitty but it fit Doris’s third finger.
“The setting is certainly old fashioned,” Kitty commented, “but can’t you imagine how gorgeous it would look in a modern one! I think the Misses Gates are foolish not to want it.”
“The question is, what shall we do with it? We can’t very well wear it around in front of them. They’re so sensitive. And the ring doesn’t belong to us.”
“It doesn’t belong to any one,” Kitty declared. “The poor thing is an orphan! Until some one turns in a claim, though, let’s pretend it’s ours. This will probably be the nearest we’ll ever come to owning a ruby ring!”
She pirouetted around the room gaily, like a ballet dancer doing a special number, flashing the ring upon her finger.
“Careful, young lady,” admonished her chum. “Since it doesn’t fit you, you may fling it away in your ballet performance, never more to see the romantic jewel.”
She stopped her twirling and gazed at the sparkling gem upon her finger.
“It must be a perfect