"Yes, I think I had," she said, smiling up at him. "Do you remember it?"
"Well, I shouldn't, if it hadn't been for Dolph," he said, honestly. "Dolph always remembers, you know."
"Yes, I know."
"And so—so——." He took the morocco case from his pocket and opened it. "And so—well, I know it isn't worth your acceptance, but if you care to take it, here's a trifle—Dolph gave me," he added, honestly and he held out the bracelet.
She took it, and her face brightened, brightened with a soft glow which made it look inexpressibly tender and grateful.
"How good of you! How pretty it is! And it is just the size, see," and she unbuttoned the habit sleeve and slipped the bracelet on. "How does it fasten?"
"Eh?" he said. "Oh, like this, I expect," and he closed the spring and fastened it over her slender, milk-white wrist, and the touch of his hand sent a thrill through her, though he performed the operation in a most business-like way.
"How very good of you!"
"Say, rather of Dolph," he said. "It was he who gave it to me for you."
"But it was you who gave it to me," she said, in a low voice.