She drew from her bosom a slender gold chain on which was suspended a quaint antique cameo ring of black agate, with a grinning white skull in the centre, and around the oval border of heavily chased gold glittered a row of large and very brilliant diamonds.
"I distinctly remember the circumstance."
As the minister restored the ring to its owner, she returned it and the chain to its hiding-place.
"I do not wear it, I am biding my time. When General Laurance sent his agent first to attempt to buy me off, and, finding that impossible, to browbeat and terrify me into silence, one of his insolent demands was the restoration of this ring, which he said was an heirloom of untold value in his family, and must belong to none but a Laurance. He offered five hundred dollars for the delivery of it into his possession. I would sooner part with my right arm! Were it iron or lead, its value to me would be the same, for it is the only symbol of my lawful marriage,—is my child's title deed to a legitimate name."
She turned toward the door, and Dr. Hargrove asked:
"Where is your home?"
"I have none. I am a waif drifting from city to city, on the uncertain waves of chance."
"Have you no relatives?"
"Only an uncle, somewhere in the gold mines of California."
"Does General Laurance provide for your maintenance?"