Encouraged by this slight change in her attitude towards him, Lawson took a ring from his pocket one night and said, "I wish you'd wear this, Elsie Bee Bee."
She drew back. "I can't do that. I'm not ready to promise anything yet."
"It needn't bind you," he pleaded. "It needn't mean any more than you care to have it mean. But I think our understanding justifies a ring."
"That's just it," she answered, quickly. "I don't like you to be so solemn about our 'understanding.' You promised to let me think it all out in my own way and in my own time."
"I know I did—and I mean to do so. Only"—he smiled with a wistful look at her—"I would have you observe that I have developed three gray hairs over my ears."
She took the ring slowly, and as she put the tip of her finger into it a slight premonitory shudder passed over her.
"You are sure you understand—this is no binding promise on my part?"
"It will leave you as free as before."
"Then I will wear it," she said, and slipped it to its place. "It is a beautiful ring."
He bent and kissed her fingers. "And a beautiful hand, Elsie Bee Bee."