ell be found), she let the gentle tears flow fast, and came
and sat so close beside me, that I trembled like a folded sheep at the
bleating of her lamb. But recovering comfort quickly, without more ado,
I raised her left hand and observed it with a nice regard, wondering at
the small blue veins, and curves, and tapering whiteness, and the points
it finished with. My wonder seemed to please her much, herself so well
accustomed to it, and not fond of watching it. And then, before she
could say a word, or guess what I was up to, as quick as ever I turned
hand in a bout of wrestling, on her finger was my ring--sapphire for the
veins of blue, and pearls to match white fingers.

"Oh, you crafty Master Ridd!" said Lorna, looking up at me, and blushing
now a far brighter blush than when she spoke of Charlie; "I thought that
you were much too simple ever to do this sort of thing. No wonder you
can catch the fish, as when first I saw you."

"Have I caught you, little fish? Or must all my life be spent in
hopeless angling for you?"

"Neither one nor the other, John! You have not caught me yet altogether,
though I like you dearly John; and if you will only keep away, I shall
like you more and more. As for hopeless angling, John--that all others
shall have until I tell you otherwise."

With the large tears in her eyes--tears which seemed to me to rise
partly from her want to love me with the power of my love--she put her
pure bright lips, half smiling, half prone to reply to tears, against my
forehead lined with trouble, doubt, and eager longing. And then she drew
my ring from off that snowy twig her finger, and held it out to me; and
then, seeing how my face was falling, thrice she touched it with her
lips, and sweetly gave it back to me. "John, I dare not take it now;
else I should be cheating you. I will try to love you dearly, even as
you deserve and wish. Keep it for me just till then. Something tells me
I shall earn it in a very little time. Perhaps you will be sorry then,
sorry when it is all too late, to be loved by such as I am."

What could I do at her mournful tone, but kiss a thousand times the hand
which she put up to warn me, and vow that I would rather die with one
assurance of her love, than without it live for ever with all beside
that the world could give? Upon this she looked so lovely, with her dark
eyelashes trembling, and her soft eyes full of light, and the colour of
clear sunrise mounting on her cheeks an