The bitter thought passed. She bent over her mother, and gently stroked back the damp hair from her forehead. "I shall--be able--to take care of myself," she said bravely, "and----" "Be good, my little girl," the murmuring voice broke in, "be good--and come to us some day--Ronald and I will be there--together. I want--to tell you--the pendant--the emerald pendant"--a look of excitement flashed into her eyes; she made a great effort to raise herself in the bed, but such effort was far beyond her feeble strength--"I can't tell--you--now," she gasped; "later--after--sleep--the pendant--take--the--emerald; tell Arthur"--and at that word her strength suddenly failed, her eyes closed, she slipped down among her pillows, in an unconsciousness from which she never again awoke. All through the fragrant summer night following that sunshiny afternoon, Christina had watched beside her, hoping against hope that some faint knowledge of outward things would return to her, that the strange unfinished sentence might be ended. "I want to tell you," her mother had said. What was it she wished to tell her daughter? What was the meaning of those strange words that seemed so incoherent and without sense? "The pendant--take--the--emerald--tell Arthur----" But no glimmer of consciousness crossed the still white face; the eyes that had last looked at the sunny sky of June, and the nodding roses, opened no more upon this world's sunshine and flowers, the faltering voice was silenced for ever; and in the grey dawn of morning Christina's mother had passed to the land where she and the man she loved would part no more. The vision faded. Christina was back again in the present--the dull light of the oil lamp shining on the jewel she held--in the clammy cold of a November evening, that was as far removed from the sunny sweetness of June, as her sordid room was removed from the rose-scented fragrance of her old home. "I wonder what she wanted to tell me," the girl mused again; as she had mused countless times before; "what could she have meant when she said those words: "The pendant--take--the--emerald--tell Arthur----" "I wonder who Arthur could have been." CHAPTER VI. "BABA LOVES YOU VERY MUCH." "Will the lady who on Monday morning brought Baba home out of the fog, kindly call at 100, Eaton Square, any time between eleven and one o'clock?"