CHAPTER XIX.
THE ROMANCE OF A RING.
Ferdinand B. Kensington, as he called himself, removed the nextmorning to the house of Aunt Deborah. The latter received him verycordially, partly because it was a pleasant relief to her solitude tohave a lively and active young man in the house, partly because shewas not forced to look upon him as a poor relation in need ofpecuniary assistance. She even felt considerable respect for theprospective recipient of an income of two thousand dollars, which inher eyes was a magnificent salary.
Ferdinand, on his part, spared no pains to make himself agreeable tothe old lady, whom he had a mercenary object in pleasing. Findingthat she was curious to hear about the great city, which to her wasas unknown as London or Paris, be gratified her by long accounts,chiefly of as imaginative character, to which she listened greedily.These included some personal adventures, in all of which he figuredvery creditably.
Here is a specimen.
"By the way, Aunt Deborah," he said, casually, "have you noticed thisring on my middle finger?"
"No, I didn't notice it before, Ferdinand. It's very handsome."
"I should think it ought to be, Aunt Deborah," said the young man.
"Why?"
"It cost enough to be handsome."
"How much did it cost?" asked the old lady, not without curiosity.
"Guess."
"I aint no judge of such things; I've only got this plain gold ring.Yours has got some sort of a stone in it."
"That stone is a diamond, Aunt Deborah!"
"You don't say so! Let me look at it. It aint got no color. Lookslike glass."
"It's very expensive, though. How much do you think it cost?"
"Well, maybe five dollars."
"Five dollars!" ejaculated the young man. "Why, what can you bethinking of, Aunt Deborah?"
"I shouldn't have guessed so much," said the old lady,misunderstanding him, "only you said it was expensive."
"So it is. Five dollars would be nothing at all."
"You don't say it cost more?"
"A great deal more."
"Did it cost ten dollars?"
"More."
"Fifteen?"
"I see, aunt, you have no idea of the cost of diamond rings! You maybelieve me or not, but that ring cost six hundred and fifty dollars."
"What!" almost screamed Aunt Deborah, letting fall her knitting inher surprise.
"It's true."
"Six hundred and fifty dollars for a little piece of gold and glass!"ejaculated the old lady.
"Diamond, aunt, not glass."
"Well, it don't look a bit better'n glass, and I do say," proceededDeborah, with energy, "that it's a sin and a shame to pay so muchmoney for a ring. Why, it was more than half your year's salary,Ferdinand."
"I agree with you, aunt; it would have been very foolish and wrongfor a young man on a small salary like mine to buy so expensive aring as this. I hope, Aunt Deborah, I have inherited too much ofyour good sense to do that."
"Then where did you get it?" asked the old lady, moderating her tone.
"It was given to me."
"Given to you! Who would give you such a costly present?"
"A rich man whose life I once saved, Aunt Deborah."
"You don't say so, Ferdinand!" said Aunt Deborah, interested. "Tellme all about it."
"So I will, aunt, though I don't often speak of it," said Ferdinand,modestly. "It seems like boasting, you know, and I never like to dothat. But this is the way it happened.
"Now for a good tough lie!" said Ferdinand to himself, as the oldlady suspended her work, and bent forward with eager attention.
"You know, of course, that New York and Brooklyn are on oppositesides of the river, and that people have to go across in ferry-boats."
"Yes, I've heard that, Ferdinand."
"I'm glad of that, because now you'll know that my story is correct.Well, one summer I boarded over in Brooklyn--on the Heights--and usedto cross the ferry morning and night. It was the Wall street ferry,and a great many bankers and rich merchants used to cross daily also.One of these was a Mr. Clayton, a wholesale dry-goods merchant,immensely rich, whom I knew by sight, though I had never spoken tohim. It was one Thursday morning--I remember even the day of theweek--when the boat was unusually full. Mr. Clayton was leaningagainst the side-railing talking to a friend, when all at once therailing gave way, and he fell backward into the water, whichimmediately swallowed him up."
"Merciful man!" ejaculated Aunt Deborah, intensely interested. "Goon, Ferdinand."
"Of course there was a scene of confusion and excitement," continuedFerdinand, dramatically. 'Man overboard! Who will save him?' saidmore than one. 'I will,' I exclaimed, and in an instant I had sprangover the railing into the boiling current."
"Weren't you frightened to death?" asked the old lady. "Could youswim?"
"Of course I could. More than once I have swum all the way from NewYork to Brooklyn. I caught Mr. Clayton by the collar, as he wassinking for the third time, and shouted to a boatman near by to cometo my help. Well, there isn't much more to tell. We were taken onboard the boat, and rowed to shore. Mr. Clayton recovered his sensesso far as to realize that I had saved his life.
"'What is your name, young man?' he asked, grasping my hand.
"'Ferdinand B. Kensington,' I answered modestly.
"'You have saved my life,' he said warmly.
"'I am very glad of it,' said I.
"'You have shown wonderful bravery."
"'Oh no,' I answered. 'I know how to swim, and I wasn't going to seeyou drown before my eyes.'
"'I shall never cease to be grateful to you.'
"'Oh, don't think of it,' said I.
"'But I must think of it,' he answered. 'But for you I should now bea senseless corpse lying in the bottom of the river,' and heshuddered.
"'Mr. Clayton,' said I, 'let me advise you to get home as soon aspossible, or you will catch your death of cold.'
"'So will you,' he said. 'You must come with me.'
"He insisted, so I went, and was handsomely treated, you may depend.Mr. Clayton gave me a new suit of clothes, and the next morning hetook me to Tiffany's--that's the best jeweller in New York--andbought me this diamond ring. He first offered me money, but I feltdelicate about taking money for such a service, and told him so. Sohe bought me this ring."
"Well, I declare!" ejaculated Aunt Deborah.
"That was an adventure. But it seems to me, Ferdinand, I would havetaken the money."
"As to that, aunt, I can sell this ring, if ever I get hard up, but Ihope I sha'n't be obliged to."
"You certainly behaved very well, Ferdinand. Do you ever see Mr.Clayton now?"
"Sometimes, but I don't seek his society, for fear he would think Iwanted to get something more out of him."
"How much money do you think he'd have given you?" asked AuntDeborah, who was of a practical nature.
"A thousand dollars, perhaps more."
"Seems to me I would have taken it."
"If I had, people would have said that's why I jumped into the water,whereas I wasn't thinking anything about getting a reward. So now,aunt, you won't think it very strange that I wear such an expensivering."
"Of course it makes a difference, as you didn't buy it yourself. Idon't see how folks can be such fools as to throw away hundreds ofdollars for such a trifle."
"Well, aunt, everybody isn't as sensible and practical as you. Now Iagree with you; I think it's very foolish. Still I'm glad I've gotthe ring, because I can turn it into money when I need to. Only, yousee, I don't like to part with a gift, although I don't think Mr.Clayton would blame me."
"Of course he wouldn't, Ferdinand. But I don't see why you shouldneed money when you're goin' to get such a handsome salary in SanFrancisco."
"To be sure, aunt, but there's something else. However, I won'tspeak of it to-day. To-morrow I may want to ask your advice on amatter of business."
"I
'll advise you the best I can, Ferdinand," said the flatteredspinster.
"You see, aunt, you're so clear-headed, I shall place greatdependence on your advice. But I think I'll take a little walk now,just to stretch my limbs."
"I've made good progress," said the young man to himself, as helounged over the farm. "The old lady swallows it all. To-morrowmust come my grand stroke. I thought I wouldn't propose it to-day,for fear she'd suspect the ring story."