nce put their hearts into it. Maggie was ashamed of her stubby
finger as she put her hand forward--but the ring fitted exactly.

"That's right," said Martin, "Now we'll have this put into a case."

"How wonderful he is," thought Maggie. Not as other women might have
thought, "I wonder how many times he's done this before." Maggie
thought then that it would be more proper to retire a little so that
she should not know the price--and she stood in the doorway of the
shop, looking upon the wind and weather in Bond Street and the
magnificent motor car that belonged to the lady with the pearls and a
magnificent chauffeur, who was so superior that it was probable that
the lady with the pearls belonged to him--and she saw none of these
things, but was conscious of herself and Martin wrapt together in a
mist of happiness that no outside force could penetrate.

As they walked away from the shop she said: "Of course I won't be able
to wear it."

He put the little square box, wrapped in tissue paper, into her hand,
and answered: "You can wear it on a ribbon under your dress."

"Oh yes," she whispered, pressing his hand for a moment.

They did not climb on to a 'bus that morning, but walked ahead blindly,
blissfully, they did not know whither. They were now in wild days at
the end of November and the weather was tempestuous, the wind blowing
with a screaming fury and black clouds scudding across the sky like
portents. Little heavy drops of rain fell with a sudden urgency as
though they were emphasising some secret; figures were swept through
the streets and the roar of the wind was so vehement that the traffic
seemed to make no sound. And yet nothing happened--no great storm of
rain, no devastating flood. It was a day of warning.

They noticed nothing of the weather. It might have been a world of
burning sunshine for all they saw of it.

"You know," said Martin, "I've never liked giving any one anything so
much as I liked giving you that ring."

"I wish I could give you something too," she said.

"Well, you can," he said. "Some little thing that I'll carry about with
me always ... Oh, Maggie!" he went on. "Isn't it strange how easy it is
to be good when no one worries you. These last ten days with you I
couldn't have done anything wrong if I tried. It isn't fair to say we
can help ourselves. We can't. Something just comes along and seizes you
and makes you do wrong."

"Oh, I don't know," said Maggie. "Don't let's talk ab