Her maid went with
her into the shops, and one of the grooms always stood at the door
within call, to the intense delight of the neighborhood. And one day
she found what, from her point of view, was a perfect gem. It was a
poor, cheap-looking, tarnished silver medal, a half-dollar once,
undoubtedly, beaten out roughly into the shape of a heart and engraved
in script by the jeweller of some country town. On one side were two
clasped hands with a wreath around them, and on the reverse was this
inscription: "From Henry Burgoyne to his beloved friend Lewis L.
Lockwood"; and below, "Through prosperity and adversity." That was
all. And here it was among razors and pistols and family Bibles in a
pawnbroker's window. What a story there was in that! These two boy
friends, and their boyish friendship that was to withstand adversity
and prosperity, and all that remained of it was this inscription to
its memory like the wording on a tomb!
"He couldn't have got so much on it any way," said the pawnbroker,
entering into her humor. "I didn't lend him more'n a quarter of a
dollar at the most."
Miss Catherwaight stood wondering if the Lewis L. Lockwood could be
Lewis Lockwood, the lawyer one read so much about.
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