belong to
myself, and only I can give myself away. Hugh, I don't consider this
settled at all. You might as well know the truth at once; I have some voice
in the matter."

Mr. Huntingdon had evidently prepared him for something of this kind on her
part, and, though his face flushed angrily, he took no notice of the
remonstrance.

"I shall write to you frequently, and I hope that you will be punctual in
replying. Irie, give me your left hand just a minute; wear this ring till I
come back, to remind you that you have a cousin across the ocean."

He tried to force the flashing jewel on her slender finger, but she
resisted, and rose, struggling to withdraw her hand.

"No, no, Hugh! I can't; I won't. I know very well what that ring means, and
I cannot accept it. Release my hand; I tell you I won't wear it."

"Come, Hugh; you have not a moment to spare; the carriage is waiting." Mr.
Huntingdon threw open the door, having heard every word that had passed.
Hugh dropped the ring in his vest-pocket and rose.

"Well, Irie, I suppose I must bid you farewell. Two or three years will
change you, my dearest little cousin. Good-bye; think of me now and then,
and learn to love me by the time I come home."

She suffered him to take both her hands and kiss her tenderly, for her
father stood there, and she could not refuse; but the touch of his lips
burned her long after he was gone. She put on her bonnet, and, when her
father returned from the steamer, they entered the carriage which was to
convey her to the dreary, dreaded school. As they rolled along Broadway,
Mr. Huntingdon coolly took her hand and placed Hugh's ring upon it, saying
authoritatively--

"Hugh told me you refused to accept his parting gift, and seemed much hurt
about it. There is no reason why you should not wear it, and in future I do
not wish to see you without it. Remember this, my daughter."

"Father, it is wrong for me to wear it, unless I expected to----"

"I understand the whole matter perfectly. Now, Irene, let me hear no more
about it. I wish you would learn that it is a child's duty to obey her
parent. No more words, if you please, on the subject."

She felt that this was not the hour for resistance, and wisely forbore; but
he saw rebellion written in the calm, fixed eye, and read it in the curved
lines of the full upper lip. She had entreated him to take her home, and
only the night before renewed her pleadings. But his refusal was positive,
and now