"Will ye kiss me for it?" he cried.
"I will not," said she decisively.
"Then you sha'n't have it," he said with great determination, moving as though to put it in his pocket.
"I'll go and write some letters, then," she remarked calmly, starting toward the door.
Afraid of losing her society for the morning, mayhap, he put the box on the table and pushed it toward her.
It was a small silver case, strong and firm, with a smaller box of white velvet inside, in which lay a ruby ring—a gem for which men commit crimes and women sin; a gorgeous, sparkling, rosy stone, sending rainbow spots upon the wall, and rendering Nancy radiant and speechless as she slipped it on her finger.
"Is it for me, Dand?" she asked, almost in a whisper.
"For whom else would it be, Little Girl?" he answered, and the delight he had in her pleasure was a beautiful and husband-like thing to see.
"But why!" she asked. "Can I take it from him, Jock Stair?" she said, turning to me suddenly.
"A woman can surely take a gift from her future husband with no impropriety," I answered.