a small case, which bring to me.'

Margaret, not a little surprised, did as she was desired. The abbess
gazed on the case for some moments in silence, and Margaret thought
she saw a tear glisten in her eye as she pressed the box to her lips,
and kissed it tenderly and reverentially.

'I have sworn,' she said, 'never to part with it; yet what can I do?
It must be so: it is the will of God.' And with a trembling hand, as
if about to commit sacrilege, she opened the case, and drew from it a
ruby of great brilliancy and beauty. 'You see this jewel?' she said.
'Margaret, it is the glory of my ancient house; it is the last gem in
my coronet, and more precious in my eyes than anything in the world.
My grand-uncle, the noblest of men, the Archbishop of Besançon,
brought it from the East; and when, in guerdon for some-family
service, Louis XIV. founded the Abbey of Vatteville, and made my
grand-aunt the first abbess of the order, he himself adorned her cross
with it. You now know the value of the jewel to me; and though I
cannot tell its marketable value, still, notwithstanding the pressure
of the times, I cannot but think it must bring sufficient to secure
us, for some time at least, from want. "Were I to consider myself
alone, I would starve sooner than touch the sacred deposit; but to
allow you, Margaret, to suffer, and to suffer for me--to take
advantage any longer of your disinterested affection and devoted
fidelity--would be base selfishness. God has at last taught me that I
was but sacrificing you to my pride, and I must hasten to make
atonement. I will endeavour to raise money on this jewel. You know old
M. Simon? Notwithstanding his mean appearance and humble mode of
living, I am persuaded he is a rich man; and though parsimonious in
the extreme, he is good-natured and obliging whenever he can be so