"All but a plain wedding ring which I have on my finger."
"Oh! let me see that."
"It is just like any other ring of the sort, my lord. It can tell nothing."
She held out her small sun-burnt hand.
He clasped it eagerly in his own, and with some difficulty, drew the ring from her finger.
This underwent the same strict scrutiny that he had bestowed upon the locket, but his countenance betrayed still deeper emotion.
"Keep that ring!" he said solemnly, replacing it upon her finger. "Keep it as you would your life. It may be the means of restoring you to him who put it on your mother's finger. And the locket—was that hers?"
"No, my lord; it was given to me by Mrs. Rushmere."
"And these people—these Rushmeres—are they kind to you, Dorothy?"
"Yes, very kind. The only friends I have in the world."