"Something that I have worn," she murmured, musingly.
She glanced at her hands, where, upon her white fingers, gleamed several valuable rings, but she instinctively felt that none of these would be a suitable offering.
He certainly would not care for a bracelet—he would not accept her watch.
Then suddenly one dainty hand went up to her throat, where her collar was fastened with a beautiful brooch to which there was attached a pendant as unique as it was lovely.
"Will you have this?" she asked, touching it. "Mamma gave it to me one birthday—you shall have the pendant to wear on your chain, and I will keep the brooch always."
She unfastened the ornament and held it out to him.
The pendant was a small golden medallion with richly enameled pansy, a tiny diamond in its centre, on one side, while upon the other was engraved the name "Violet."
Wallace flushed with pleasure; he could have thought of nothing that would afford him so much gratification. Still he hesitated to take it.
"I do not like to rob you of your mother's gift," he said, gently.
"Please take it; I want you to have it—that is, if you would like it," Violet said, eagerly, and looking so lovely in her earnestness that he longed to take her in his arms and claim her for his own, then and there.