quite elderly and all alone. The rest of the family gone? What could have happened to Virginia—to Channing?
“Watch your step, Virginia.” Channing’s warning, as she stumbled on an uneven cobble, snapped her thoughts back to the present—or the past, as it were.
“That horse nearly ran me down! We should have crossed with the light, Channing.” The words were barely out of her mouth, before she realized her mistake. To cover her blunder, she changed the subject quickly, before Channing had time to ask questions.
“You said we’re going to Tiffany’s?”
“Yes. That’s Mr. Tiffany’s establishment, that fine looking building with the cast iron facade, there on the left.”
“Won’t a ring from Tiffany’s cost a fortune, Channing?”
“Nothing is too good for the woman I love.”
His words made her heart flutter. Or was she feeling Virginia’s reaction to the man she loved? It didn’t matter. She basked in this feeling of being cherished and adored. No one had ever treated plain old Ginna Jones this way. It felt good!
Channing opened the beautifully etched and gilded door for her. The moment she stepped inside, she was dazzled. Crystal chandeliers sparkled with gaslight, casting a brilliant aura on Mr. Tiffany’s exquisite gems in their glass cases. Charles Lewis Tiffany, a distinguished looking man of about fifty, came toward them with a welcoming smile.
“Good afternoon, sir,” Channing said.
“Mr. McNeal, how good to see you again. And this must be your lady fair.” He reached for Ginna’s hand and touched his lips lightly to her glove. “Welcome, Miss Swan. I have so looked forward to meeting you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tiffany.” She smiled at having her present identity confirmed, once and for all. She was indeed Virginia Swan of Swan’s Quarter, soon to become Mrs. Channing McNeal.
After a brief period of small talk, Tiffany brought out the first offering of rings, then tray after tray of others. Although Ginna would have been thrilled to wear any one of them, her fiancé was not so easily pleased. He was searching for something special, he said, something unique. “Something as lovely as my bride,” he added, with a smile that all but melted her soul.
“Perhaps you might like to see some of my unset stones,” Mr. Tiffany offered. “I returned only recently from a buying trip to Amsterdam and Paris. Some of the gems I brought back were actually worn by European royalty.”
“By all means, sir.” Channing sounded more than eager and cast an excited glance at Ginna.
Tiffany smiled at the two of them. “Come with me to my office in back,” he invited.
Once in the lavishly appointed office, they settled into deep, plush chairs, while Tiffany excused himself to go to the safe. He returned with several velvet-lined trays of radiant diamonds, emeralds, opals, and rubies.
Ginna tugged Channing’s sleeve and whispered when he leaned close, “Chan, any one of these will cost more than a whole plantation. You shouldn’t! I have you. I don’t need an extravagant ring.”
He chuckled and brushed her cheek with his lips. “That’s a lovely sentiment, my darling, but I’m not exactly in the poor house, you know. I want to do this. Don’t spoil it by worrying about the cost.”
If there was one thing Ginna Jones always worried about, it was the cost of things. She was a coupon-clipper, a sale-shopper, a thriftshop patron. If anyone had ever told her that someday she would find herself in the private office at Tiffany’s, choosing from among the jewels of royalty, she would have told Dr. Kirkwood back at Swan’s Quarter to ready a padded cell for that crazy person. But here she was, big as life, with a fortune in jewels spread before her. She had only to choose her heart’s desire.
Channing leaned forward, examining each stone closely. Finally, he shook his head. “I can’t decide. Which one strikes your fancy, Virginia?”
Still nervous about the cost, in spite of