For a moment she was dumb with a new pleasure, all her soul sparkling from her eyes.
“Now I am linked to you,” she said, kissing the gift.
“For ever. The ring was my mother’s. The stones are amethysts. See how they mock the violet lustre of your eyes!”
Marie laughed softly.
“Am I the first woman you have ever loved, Wilfrid?”
“The first and the last. Why do you ask?”
“Because you seem to speak so well for a novice.”
She accompanied her words with a smile, but the smile soon gave place to a pensive expression.
“Dearest, why that sorrowful look?”
“You have made me so happy,” she said, “and yet, amid my happiness there comes a thought that fills me with fear. I am not mistress of my true mind. Supposing I should recover my memory and forget my present self, I—I——”