Poor fellow!
he flung it down in a passion; he was so disappointed."
Phoebe's great gray eyes filled; and Rosa gave a little coo of sympathy
that was very womanly and lovable.
Phoebe leaned her cheek on her hand, and said thoughtfully, "I picked it
up, and brought it away; for, after all--don't you think, ma'am, it is
very strange that a friend should send it all that way, if it was worth
nothing at all?"
"It is impossible. He could not be so heartless."
"And do you know, ma'am, when I take it up in my fingers, it doesn't
feel like a thing that was worth nothing."
"No more it does: it makes my fingers tremble. May I take it home, and
show it my husband? he is a great physician and knows everything."
"I am sure I should be obliged to you, ma'am."
Rosa drove home, on purpose to show it to Christopher. She ran into
his study: "Oh, Christopher, please look at that. You know that good
creature we have our flour and milk and things of. She is engaged, and
he is a painter. Oh, such daubs! He painted a friend, and the friend
sent that home all the way from Natal, and he dashed it down, and SHE
picked it up, and what is it? ground glass, or a pebble, or what?"
"Humph!--by its shape, and the great--brilliancy--and refraction of
light, on this angle, where the stone has got polished by rubbing
against other stones, in the course of ages, I'm inclined to think it
is--a diamond.
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