"I trust so, for I have not been home since morning. I received a letter, as I came through the village, from your father, desiring to see me, and I had time only to send a message to Lettie. I hope Doctor Percival is well?"
"Oh, yes,—else I should not be here."
I had gloved my hand again during these words of recognition. Mr. Axtell noticed it, and asked to see a ring that had attracted his attention.
"Excuse me," I said,—"it is one of my father's gifts to me,—I cannot take it off,—it is a simple ring, Mr. Axtell"; and I held it out for him to see.
"I knew it!" he exclaimed; "there could not be two alike; years have not changed its lustre. Mary wore it first on the day we were engaged."
"Was it your gift to her, Mr. Axtell?"
He answered, "Yes"; and I, drawing it off, handed it to him, saying, "It should have been returned to you long ago."
"No, no," he said, quite solemnly, "it is in better keeping"; and he took the tiny circlet of gold, and looked a moment at it, with its shining cluster of brilliants, then gave it back to me.
"Have you no claim upon this?" I asked.
"On the ring? Oh, no,—none."