Persis dropped down on the floor all in a heap and began to cry.
“Why, Persis Holmes!”
“I can’t help it! I can’t help it! First Lisa comes home and tells me she is engaged, and then I read that letter, and then this comes. It is too much all at once. I seem to see that poor, young, desperate fellow rushing to his cousin and begging her help. I can see grandma appealing to his better self. I can see him, with the shadow of guilt following him, fighting against temptation.”
“Don’t get so wrought up, Persis. You are so excited you are trembling all over.”
“Where is that little ring? I want that.”
“I believe you would rather have it than the bonds.”
“So I would, just at this moment. Let me indulge my sentimentality for a little while.”
“Well, then, here is the ring. Isn’t it pretty—just those three big milk-white pearls?”
Persis put it on her finger and sat pensively regarding it. “I shall always wear it,” she said. “I shall be true to you, Cousin Ambrose.”
“What deadly sentimentality!” laughed Annis. “I never would have believed it of you. Come, let us go show these bonds to your father.”