Aunt Sophie's Diamonds Read Online Free PDF Page B

unerring eye in your head, Miss Milmont,” Hillary said, coming up behind her.
    She jumped, for she had not heard him approach.
    "Yes, it is gross,” Luane agreed, hardly glancing at it. “But I still hope it's mine."
    "It must surely be going to you, don't you think, Uncle Hil?” Gabriel asked. Hillary was not his uncle, but the termination had been agreed upon early in their relation ship.
    "It is wisest not to count your chickens before they're hatched. According to kinship, Miss Milmont has as much right to it."
    "I shall now answer a question you asked me previously, Sir Hillary,” Claudia said. “After seeing them, I have no hesitation in proclaiming a total disinterest in Aunt Sophie's diamonds. That red ring is nice though—a ruby I suppose. How oddly it is cut; it looks like a cherry."
    "It is called a cabochon—polished rather than faceted,” Sir Hillary explained.
    "Oh, and that huge rope must be the pearls I have heard mama mention. How very well they look."
    "Mama did mention the pearls, did she? She was not quite so negligent as I accused her of being. Yes, the glass beads with fish-scale coating give a good likeness of real pearls in the half-darkness."
    "Of them all, I prefer the emerald ring,” Gabriel said, looking into the case.
    "She was wearing it today,” Claudia told him. “It is the only one of her jewels I have actually seen."
    "I like the little diadem of diamonds,” Luane said. “She let me wear it once, and it was very uncomfortable."
    "That would be because she screwed it to your head,” Hillary suggested. “No borrowing of the jewels was ever taken lightly."
    "I wasn't even leaving the house. Don't you remember—it was on my sixteenth birthday. I thought she meant to give it to me, only she gave me a netting box instead."
    Claudia gave her a commiserating smile. “You would not have liked it if it was uncomfortable."
    "Pooh, I don't care for a little discomfort."
    "I do,” Sir Hillary said. “And if Miss Milmont has gazed her fill at these pieces of glass, I suggest we leave this drafty room and return to the Saloon, where we might be comfortable with a cup of lukewarm, now almost certainly cold, tea."
    "I'll get you a glass of wine instead,” Luane told him.
    "Thank you, no, brat. I value my health even more than my comfort, and vinegar doesn't agree with me."
    They returned to the Saloon and the cold tea, and Sir Hillary went to Miss Bliss. “Have arrangements been set in progress for the funeral?"
    "We notified the vicar, and Jonathon wrote notes to several neighbors. As tomorrow happens to be Sunday, the vicar can announce the death and date of the funeral for anyone who wants to come."
    "Is Jonathon putting the hatchment up, and doing the knocker in crape? Sophie would have wanted the whole works."
    "The butler is seeing to it."
    "It's a macabre enough thing to mention at this time, but you must be inured to oddities after ten years’ internment in this mausoleum. What I'm talking about is the barbaric necessity for a sort of feast, after the funeral. I suspect, knowing the dear late Sophronia, the cupboards are bare. Tomorrow being Sunday, and the funeral on Monday, shall I bring some things from Chanely?"
    "There's a plum cake I was planning to serve Sunday—we could save it."
    "Mmm—but I do feel, you know, that you ought to feed the guests something tomorrow, Sunday or no. I shall risk losing my cook by setting him to bake up the funeral feast on the Sabbath. It will be a nuisance to haul everything over. You'll need some decent wine, too, and very likely some extra glasses and dishes. Do you know, Miss Blissful, I begin to think the easier way is to hold the after-service party chez moi. Will it look too very odd?"
    Miss Bliss considered it, and though it would certainly appear odd, it would be such a blessed relief that she did not reject the offer out of hand.
    "Is it the proprieties that deter you? I can see it is. Never mind, it will be taken for only one