The girl did not know how wonderful the pearls were and had not the
faintest conception of their value. But she saw their beauty and felt
their charm, for a beautiful woman loves and longs for the jewels that
belong to her beauty, as naturally as the rose loves and longs to gather
and keep the dewdrops in its heart.
"Oh! Oh!" was all that she could say, and she could think of nothing to
do, except stand on tiptoe and touch Philip Alston's cheek with a
butterfly kiss. And then when he had put the string of pearls around her
neck, so that it swung far down over her rounded young bosom, she danced
across the room to the largest mirror. But the corner in which it hung
was always full of shadows and so dark on this gloomy day that she could
not see, and with pretty imperiousness she called for candles to be
lighted and brought to her. William Pressley mechanically got up to
obey, but Philip Alston moved more quickly. Going to the hearth he took
two candles from the mantelpiece, lit them at the fire, and carried them
to her. He expected to have the pleasure of holding them so that she
might see the lovely vision, which he was already looking upon.
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