in fact, they were the only surviving members of
their family, apart from very distant connections in France, from where,
generations back, the family originally came." Her hand touched
Jimmie Dale's for an instant. "That ring, Jimmie, with its crest and
inscription, is the old family coat of arms."

"Yes," he said briefly; "I surmised as much."

"Strange as it may seem, in view of the fact that they had not seen each
other for twenty years," she went on hurriedly "my father and my
uncle were more than ordinarily attached to each other. Letters passed
regularly between them, and there was constant talk of one paying the
other a visit--but the visit never materialised. My uncle was somewhere
in Australia, my father was here, and consequently I never saw my uncle.
He was quite a different type of man from father--more restless, less
settled, more rough and ready, preferring the outdoor life of the
Australian bush to the restrictions of any so-called civilisation, I
imagine. Financially, I do not think he ever succeeded very well, for
twice, in one way or another, he lost every sheep on his ranch and
father set him up again; and I do not think he could ever have had much
of a ranch, for I remember once, in one of the letters he wrote, that he
said he had not seen a white man in weeks, so he must have lived a very
lonely life. Indeed, at about the time father drew the new will, my
uncle wrote, saying that he had decided to give up sheep running on his
own account as it did not pay, and to accept a very favourable offer
that had been made to him to manage a ranch in New Zealand; and his next
letter was from the latter country, stating that he had carried out
his intentions, and was well satisfied with the change he had made. The
long-proposed visit still continued to occupy my father's thoughts, and
on his retirement from business he definitely made up his mind to go
out to New Zealand, taking me with him. In fact, the plans were all
arranged, my uncle expressed unbounded delight in his letters, and we
were practically on the eve of sailing, when a cable came from my uncle,
telling us to postpone the visit for a few months, as he was obliged to
make a buying trip for his new employer that would keep him away that
length of time--and then"--her fingers, that had been abstractedly
picking out the lines formed by the grain of the wood in the table top,
closed suddenly into tight-clenched fists--"and then--my father died."

J