"It'll interrupt the work," objected Abner.
"Never mind about the work," said Deborah, impatiently. "I must go right off. It's on very important business."
"Wouldn't it be best to go after dinner?"
"No, we'll get some dinner over there, at the tavern."
"What's got into the old woman?" thought Abner. "It isn't like her to spend money at a tavern for dinner, when she might as well dine at home. Interruptin' the work, too! However, it's her business!"
Deborah was ready and waiting when the horse drove up the door. She got in, and they set out. Abner tried to open a conversation, but he found Miss Deborah strangely unsocial. She appeared to take no interest in the details of farm work of which he spoke.
"Something's on her mind, I guess," thought Abner; and, as we know, he was right.
In her hand Deborah clutched the ring, of whose genuineness she had come to entertain such painful doubts. It might be genuine, she tried to hope, even if it came from an impostor; but her hope was small. She felt a presentiment that it would prove as false as the man from whom she received it. As for the story of the manner in which he became possessed of it, doubtless that was as false as the rest.
"How blind I was!" groaned Deborah in secret. "I saw he didn't look like the family. What a goose I was to believe that story about his changin' the color of his hair! I was an old fool, and that's all about it."
"Drive to the jeweller's," said Miss Deborah, when they reached
Brandon.