"Had you known one tithe of the temptations to which I was exposed, you might well have trembled for me. Why, the very last night I was at the Royal Westminster there was a note left for me at the stage door and a splendid bouquet, and inside the bouquet was this."
As Miriam spoke, she extracted from her watch-pocket a ring set with five or six costly brilliants, and handed it to her father.
"You are not going to wear this!" he said, looking up at her with sudden suspicion.
"You ought to know me better, papa, than to ask such a question."
"Do you know from whom it came?"
"It would not be difficult to find out, I dare say."
"Then why have you not sent the ring back?"
"Because I mean the sender of it to pay for his folly. You remember my telling you how little Rose Montgomery broke her leg at the theatre the other week, through falling down a trap. She is little more than a child, and has not another friend than myself in all London. I am going to ask James to sell the ring for me. I shall give Rose the money. It will keep her when she comes out of the hospital till she is strong enough to begin dancing again."
"James! James! How I hate to hear the name!" said Byrne, as he got up and left the room.
"It is the name of the man I love--of the man whose wife I am going to be," replied Miriam.