Jasper County Democrat, Volume 11, Number 59, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 December 1908 — THE RUBY GIRDLE [ARTICLE]

THE RUBY GIRDLE

“I give, devise and bequeath to my daughter, Marjorie Dare, the sum of $5,000 and the ruby girdle concealed In the partition of my old writing desk.” So read Lawyer Hale. Colonel Dare had been dead just a year when, according to directions, the lawyer had requested the immediate relatives to assemble at Ralnaforth Hall for the opening of the colonel’s will. After bequests to all the near relatives and the old servants the hall and the entire estate, with the exception at the above clause, were left to his son Don. There was a blank look on the faces of all present No one bad ever heard of the ruby girdle, and it seemed preposterous that the colonel should not have made ample provision for his favorite child.

Lawyer Hale could throw no light on the matter except that the colonel bad said, “Marjorie will be rich enough, for I shall leave her the maharajah’s girdle.” As soon as Marjorie had recovered from her surprise she begged the lawyer to look for the girdle. He was sitting beside the old desk, and, opening it, he searched thoroughly in every part, but nothing was to be seen of the jewels. Marjorje turned to her brother and said, “Well, Don, you have a penniless sister on your hands.” Putting his arm around her, Don said, “My father knew that you would always be my first thought, dear, and I shall take care to merit his confidence." Then in a whisper for her ear alone he said mischievously, “I shall not have you long ’on my hands,* I am afraid.” A blush rose to Marjories brow as she thought of the handsome fellow to whom she had recently plighted her troth. He was the son of the squire, whom she had known all her life. Eric Churchill was ten years older than Marjorie and had always thought of her as a little girl. When our war with Spain opened he joined the rough riders. On his return home he found the colonel’s daughter almost a stranger to him. In that short time she had blossomed into a very charming young maiden and sedate. It fascinated the young soldier to see the beautiful gray eyes droop before his ardent gaze, and in a few short weeks he was madly in love with his old playmate. The course of true love seemed to run smoothly in his ease, and they were engaged. The year of mourning for the colonel having passed, they were to be married shortly, and one evening soon after the reading of the will the two lovers were sitting in the window seat in the library. They were talking of the pretty home that Eric had furnished for his bride, and Marjorie said wistfully: “I wish, Eric, that I were not a portionless girl. Even a ruby belt would have been something. What do you suppose has become of itr ./ “I do not know, my darling, and care less, only that it would please you to have it. Did your father never mention it In bis letters to you from India?”,.. “No, I am sure he did not. but I have all his letters, and we will read them over and see. I will get them at once.”

Marjorie soon returned with an old leather case, which she handed to Eric. As she seated herself and leaned against his shf/ulder to read the letters Eric could not resist kissing the beautiful face so close- to his again and again. Then together they read the letters carefully, but found no mention of the girdle of the maharajah. Marjorie reread a portion of the last one. ( It ran thus: “My Dear Ones—l I'lalf ;ilv. ays cherish this old desk for ae n ? : rif-•. of the loving words 1 have wrkten to you on It.” I Willi a I < ”rd Marjorie sprang tn her feet, scattering letters and case on the floor. “Oh. Erie! You do not supso papa meant this old desk? He had ii with him in India.” "! cannot- say. my dear, but we can sdon toll.” said Eric, almost as much exalted as Marjorie. As Erie lifted the cover he said breathlessly: “I believe you are right. This cover is too heavy for an ordinary desk.” Taking his penknife, he gently pried the cover apart, and there, on a lining of white velvet, lay a superb belt of rabies. Marjorie gave a cry of delight as she gazed at the lovely thing and then let Eric clasp it around her waist. On the quaint gold clasp wan engraved, “For my little Marjorie on her wedding day.” Tears filled Marjorie’s eyes as she thought of the loving father who could not give her his blessing on that day, but Eric, drawing her gently to his arms, said, “My sweetheart,.! will be both father and husband to you.” Marjorie was comforted, and as they started to find Don and tell him the good news Eric said. “You cannot call yourself portionless now, my lady, for If I am any judge of stones that girdle is worth a king’s ransom.” Marjorie turned, with a winsome ■mile. “If that is true, Eric, and you should ever lose all your money we could manage to exist on the ‘maharajah’s ruby girdle? "—Boston Post.