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“Oh, Cousin Jimmy, you promised you’d tell me about the Lost Diamond,” cried Emily eagerly.

“To be sure—to be sure. Well, it’s there—somewhere in or about the old summer-house, Emily. Fifty years ago Edward Murray and his wife came here from Kingsport for a visit. A great lady she was, and wearing silks and diamonds like a queen, though no beauty. She had a ring on with a stone in it that cost two hundred pounds, Emily. That was a big lot of money to be wearing on one wee woman-finger, wasn’t it? It sparkled on her white hand as she held her dress going up the steps of the summer house; but when she came down the steps it was gone.”

“And was it never found?” asked Emily breathlessly.

“Never—and for no lack of searching. Edward Murray wanted to have the house pulled down—but Uncle Archibald wouldn’t hear of it—because he had built it for his bride. The two brothers quarrelled over it and were never good friends again. Everybody in the connection has taken a spell hunting for the diamond. Most folks think it fell out of the summer house among the flowers or shrubs. But I know better, Emily. I know Miriam Murray’s diamond is somewhere about that old house yet. On moonlit nights, Emily, I’ve seen it glinting—glinting and beckoning. But never in the same place—and when you go to it—it’s gone, and you see it laughing at you from somewhere else.”