Above Rubies by Mary Cummins Page A

them.”
    “Then you must go back, Mrs. Cameron,” said Merry firmly. “We’re all able-bodied here, and the others will just have to help.”
    “See that they do, Miss Merry. See that they do.”
    “I’ll pop down to see you on Christmas Day,” promised Merry. “There won’t be so much to do since you’ve got nearly everything ready, and in any case, it won’t be the first time I’ve cooked a Christmas dinner.”
    She bit her lip, remembering how she’d intended to ask Benjamin, then learned that he was already invited to Rossie House. She should have expected that, she thought unhappily, and maybe it was just as well if she was going to be in the kitchen most of the day.
    Aunt Elizabeth heartily approved of Nigel when he called to take Sylvia out. At first he had also asked Merry, but last time she’d been much too busy, and now he made no pretence of wanting anyone else but Sylvia. Merry introduced him to her aunt and uncle while they waited for her to get ready, and they were charming to him.
    “How nice they can be,” thought Merry. “If only they were like this all the time, they could stay here always.”
    Yet some time, long ago, the Neilsons had reduced everything to the level of L.S.D. and made no effort to be charming when they didn’t think it worth their while.
    “I might find business a trifle boring because I don’t understand it,” Aunt Elizabeth was saying, “but jewellery is rather different. It’s such an ancient craft, and one can so admire a beautiful piece of jewellery, because man has actually dug it out of the ground and applied his skill to making something of beauty which will last for ever.”
    “I suppose the same can be said for all forms of art, dear,” Uncle George boomed. “Pictures, sculpture ... that sort of thing . .. ”
    “Yes, but there’s something very personal about jewellery,” Aunt Elizabeth pointed out. “I mean you can’t wear a picture. You can only admire it on the wall, but you can feel that a piece of jewellery is your very own. Isn’t that so, Mr. Kilpatrick?”
    Nigel was smiling, obviously charmed with both of them, then Sylvia ran lightly downstairs in the lovely new dress which Merry was struggling to pay for. She looked so beautiful that Nigel’s face went pale at the sight of her, then he flushed vividly. Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George were full of pride, but it was to Nigel that Merry turned, wishing she could say what was in her heart. She was still fond of him, and admired him, though she knew she wasn’t in love with him.
    “Be careful, Nigel,” she wanted to say. “She looks so beautiful, and so grown-up, but underneath she’s immature and irresponsible. Her heart still hasn’t been touched ... yet. She goes out with young men, and accepts their love because she enjoys it. It makes her love herself all the more. So please be careful !”
    But Merry’s thoughts and emotions had to be kept to herself as they waved the young couple away. There was still a great deal to do, and she would have to do it herself. Aunt Elizabeth had politely informed her of this.
    “I’ve had to come here because George and I need a rest so,” she told Merry. “Surely you don’t think we’d enjoy burying ourselves in a backwater like Kilbraggan if we felt able to organise a normal Christmas, and dear Sylvia seems quite happy to be here at this time. It’s all fitting in very well. The house is fairly comfortable, even if it is pitifully old-fashioned. Some of it is very shabby, Merry, and I’m sure you could do something with it without spoiling its character, if you like its old-world atmosphere. I mean, those velvet curtains are badly faded now. Why hang on to ancient things like that? New ones wouldn’t be out of place. In fact, they’d make it a lot better. And that carpet in the hall is very worn...”
    Merry sighed. She’d already tried to explain to Aunt Elizabeth that there wasn’t much money for extras, and she couldn’t afford