The least smile touched her lips, and her hands hung down.
"You know best what you want," she replied and inclined her regal head toward him.
The golden radiance streamed through the small-paned windows and reddened her hair.
Phil's fingers trembled as they tucked the flower stems under the soft folds. He dropped his eyes from the lustrous tints, and they caught a sudden elusive spark of violet, then green that shone on the table. He looked closer, and pointed.
"Did you leave your ring there?" he asked.
Kathleen looked. A diamond ring was shining beneath the tall candlestick.
She shook her daisy-crowned head.
"It's not mine," she said, wondering. "I never saw it."
"Nor I." Phil's breath came faster. "This is an enchanted place, Kathleen. The very spirit of the sea must have pitied me in my struggle and brought this ring." The ring! He looked at it, dazed for another moment, then like a flash he remembered Eliza's interruption, and his illumined eyes met Kathleen's, grave and wondering.