She did not reply; but slipping the diamond ring on her third finger down to the tip, and holding it there with her thumb, she held it to me. I looked down on the inside of the gold band and saw, marked in ruby points, as if written in blood, the names Raymond and Lillian.”
“Raymond!” I exclaimed, “who—what is the surname?”
“DeVare!” she whispered softly.
The golden thread snapped in twain, and Hope fell forever into the abyss!
I did not reply, for I knew it would have been folly to attempt to supplant Raymond DeVare, and I would not if I could have done so at a breath.
As neither of us had any further use for the library we closed it and walked home. Nothing special was said; only when I bade her good-bye she said, with the old irresistible look: “You will still visit me?”
I bowed low, and said, “If you wish me to.”
On my way home I made up my mind to one thing, that, however much I might feel depressed, I would not let Ned find it out. He had provoked me enough with his predictions; he should not now have the triumph of saying, “I told you so.”
After tea I took a long stroll with DeVare, and, as the conversation led to it, I told him all. He smiled when I concluded, and said he had been expecting as much. He then, in return for my confidence, told me that they had been engaged since early in the summer. That he and Carrover had gone to Newport, and he had met her there and loved her; that they were betrothed before he left, and that they were to be married the coming June, immediately after his graduation.