"I have something here belonging to you," opening her work-basket as she spoke, and carefully unfolding from some tissue-paper the ring from the wreck.
He received it from her in silence, turned it over several times in the palm of his hand, and seemed to waver about something. At last he said with an evident effort,—
"Would you think me very presumptuous if I asked you to keep it?"
The young lady looked at him with startled eyes and vivid colour.
What did he mean?
Observing her bewilderment, he added quickly,—
"Only as a memento of last Thursday—not to recall the whole hateful business, but just to remind you," and he stammered—"of—a friend."
"I should like to have it, thank you; and I shall always keep it," she replied, "and value it very much. Papa!" to her father, who had just entered the room, "look here—Mr. Lisle has given me a ring!"
Colonel Denis started visibly, and was not unnaturally a good deal amazed at this somewhat suggestive announcement. He liked Lisle far better than Quentin. Despite of the latter's fascinating manners to most, he scarcely noticed Colonel Denis during his constant visits; he considered him a slow old buffer, left him to walk behind, elbowed him out of the conversations, and altogether folded him up, and put him by. Helen's parent was an easy-going gentleman, but he had his feelings, and he did not care for Apollo, and he liked his pauper-friend Lisle; nevertheless he was not prepared to give him Helen—indeed, he had never dreamt of him as being one of her cloud of admirers, and he looked very blank indeed to hear his daughter say, "Mr. Lisle has given me a ring!" and saying it with such supreme sang-froid, as if it were a matter of course!
Mr. Lisle read his host's face like a book, and saw that, for once in his life, he was quite capable of uttering the word "No."