Year: 1877

The time was about fortnight befor
Christmas. There were not MANY trav
elers, and had compartment in the
early Il aal train to myself My sdestina.
ton was Paris, my errand to convey
from my father "a London jeweler ant
silversmith) to his agent in that city ,
very valuable brilliant ring "The dia
monds in it are worth FIVE hundred
pounds if they are worth penny" m,
father had said TO me, $50 hone yor
will take special care of the ring, Ned
and neither lose IL on the way nor allow
yourself to be robbed of it," smiled 3
little superciliously as my father spoke
AS If 1t were at all likely that | should
either lose it or allow it to be stolen
from me! I was just turned one.
aad-twenty, and my father had no
right 10 speak to me as if / were a boy,


L had got the ring safe in an inner
pocket OF my waistcoat, as | took care TO
assure myself from time to time. | had
not seen it since my father put it into
the little velvet-lined box, in which it
was still shut up. When had finished
my first cigar and had got through the
morning news, the thought struck me
that | might as well have another look
at the ring. There could be no harm in
that, you know. / took the box ont of
ate hiding place and opened it. My ewes
were dazzled as / looked. There Law the
darling in It's nest of purple velvet.
Who could have resisted the Measure of
taking it out and frying it on? Ger
tainly not l. First on one finger and
then on another 1 tried it. Had it been
made for the third finger of nv right
hand, it could not have fitted me better.
1t looked simply exquisite.


Now L came TO think of it, was there
or could there be safer hiding-place for
the ring than mysfnger had only to
keep my glove on, and not soul would
know anything about it. 1t was far
safer there than in my pocket. In such
case to hesitate was folly. I placed the
'Ing on my finger and put the empty
COX back into my pocket. As | was
alone there was no occasion TO put my
glove on just then; so / unused and I
smoked, and watched the many colored |
rays of light that flashed from the bril- !
liants, and wondered what great swelPs |
finger the ring was destined to deco
rate. How l wished that I could call
it mine.


There was no harm in dazzling the
eyes of the ticket collector with it. He
was only a railway official But 1 took
care TO pull on my glove and button it
before alighting from the train A quar-
ter or an hour later we were steaming
swiftly out of Dover harbor.


There were not more than a dozen
passengers on deck. The day was cold
and clear, with just enough sea on to
make the voyage unpleasant for bad
sailors. Only two ladies were visible.
One was a stout middle-aged person, who
was eating and drinking nearly the whole
way across-evidently an old salt. The
other was-well, simply the most charm
ing creature | had ever set ewes on. In
point of fact, [ could not keep nv ewes
of her. passed her and repassed her as
/ paced the deck from end to end. and
every time that / passed her looked at
her. What lovely gray eyesl What
superb yellow hair! But as for her com
plexion, it would need poet to describe
Its wlld-rose tints. Once or twice her
eyes met mine just for moment, and it
struck me that they were full of a wist-
ful sadness. So far as l could Judge, she
was entirely alone. We were about half
way across when, as I passed her for the
hftieth time, she spoke. "Would mon
sieur have the goodness to ask the stew
ard to bring me little cognac?" She
spoke IN French. As the song saws
Her voice was low and sweet" I was
toe huttered to answer her. I could
only bow and grin, and make a bolt for
the stewards den. OF course I took the
cognac to her myself You should have
seen how prettily she thanked me. She
siPPed at it as canary might do if that
bird were in the habit of drinking
brandy 81 hope that mademoiseIle is
somewhat revived" ventured to OBJ
serve presently.


g Yes, very much revived. thanks to
monsieur. But 1 am not mademeiselIe.
am madame. / am a widow" She
pressed her handkerchief to her ewes as
she spoke. How interesting, nay, how
touching, was this simple confessionl
The wistful sorrow in her eyes was at
once accounted for. Would that it had
been my happy lot to comfort her.


There was a camp-stool close by.
Presently ventured to draw it a little
nearer and to sit down on it, bIushing at
my temerity as did so. She did not
seem at all offended, and we were pres
emily in the midst of an animated and
interesting conversation. There was no
hduteur about madame. On the con-
trary, she was candor itself. She had
been staying with Sir Henry Fitz Evans
wao had charge of her late husbands in.
terets in England. She was now going
back into seclusion-going back into the
little cottage in which she had dwelt
ever since her dear husbands death.
che would not be able to go forward by
the tidal train, she told me, having a
business call to make in Calias. She
would go forward by the evening train.


All this was told me with charming
frankness. There was no reason WHY
should not wait and go with her by the
evening train-if she would only allow
me to doso. When threw out hint
to that effect, she offered no objection.
She eradmitted at once that she was fond
ofsociety, and then she looked at me