"It's the fire," replied Amy. "The greater part of Windsor was destroyed by fire a year or two ago. It used to be much prettier, they say, with its old wooden buildings and tree-lined streets. The trees and the old-fashioned dwellings have all been swept away,—at least in this part of the city. When we go to King's College this afternoon we shall see what is left of the older section."
"Martine," said Mrs. Redmond, when the two returned, "I'm sorry to have to reprove you."
"If any one is to reprove me you are the one, Mrs. Redmond, whom I should prefer to administer the reproof; but what is the trouble now? Am I in danger of catching anything new?"
"No, my child, but see!"
Mrs. Redmond held up before Martine a small chamois bag.
"Oh, dear, did I really leave it lying about?"
"Yes, Martine, and had any one else found it you might have been put to considerable trouble to recover your rings."
Taking the little bag from Mrs. Redmond's hands, Martine emptied its contents on a table. There they were,—not only the four beautiful rings, but the diamond star that her father had given her the preceding Christmas. Ever since Priscilla had expressed her contempt for those who wore expensive jewelry while travelling, Martine had carried her rings in the little bag in which she kept the star and one or two other valuable pins.
"It seems to me," said Mrs. Redmond, "that it would have been wiser to leave these valuable things in Boston."
"But I always have them with me, and nothing has ever happened."