onest to deceive you in this, Lancy."

"My Dexie, you could not deceive me if you tried. I am perfectly content
with the love you have for me already, without waiting for the romantic
passion which some story-writers consider necessary before a marriage
should take place. But your answer has disappointed me, Dexie, for I
expected to present you to mother, on our return, as my promised wife.
Indeed I was so sure you would not refuse me, I prepared myself with this,"
and he took from his pocket a little casket containing a handsome
engagement ring.

"Lancy, how could you?" The words seemed to come from the depths of her
heart.

"Do let me put it on your finger, Dexie. Think what happiness you will give
me by wearing it."

"Lancy, I want to please you, really I do, but don't ask me to put it on. I
always think a ring binds the person receiving it the same as it binds the
finger, and, once on, is almost a sacred thing; and feeling as I do, I
don't want to wear it lightly. Lancy, can't you trust me for six months
without a reminder?"

"Yes, but I wish you would wear it as a 'sign between me and thee'; do not
refuse me this, Dexie."

"Let me wear it on my chain, then, and I will take it," and she drew from
her neck a fine gold chain with a pretty charm attached. Detaching the
latter, she held it to him, saying:

"This is my one treasure, Lancy, take it in exchange; if ever you care for
another more than for me, send it back to me. I will wear your ring in its
place on the same conditions," and she clasped the chain around her neck
again, hiding the ring in her bosom.

Lancy placed the precious token in an inside pocket containing some other
treasures, and Dexie blushed as she recognized them as some trifles of her
own.

"I think I can claim that glove," said she, laughing as Lancy tucked the
little parcel in his pocket. "I have missed it for some time."

"You shall have it when the hand is mine that fits it," said he with a
bright smile, as he raised her hand to his lips. "I wonder if you realize
how much I shall miss you, Dexie. The only ray of comfort I can see is the
thought of the pleasure your letters will give me; only for that I would go
melancholy, like Hugh."

"Lancy, don't joke about Hugh; I can't bear it. I was so startled when I
saw him out last Sunday. He looked so pale and thin I could hardly believe
it was he. Does he ever mention my name, Lancy?"

"Never; but if anyone happens to bring it up in