he is a regular
Jew at a bargain, and haggled for an hour before she would let me have
it. Ultimately I gave her the price she asked, and there it is on your
pretty hand.'

'How sweet of you, George, to take so much trouble! I shall value the
ring greatly for your sake.'

'And for your own too, I hope. It is a lucky ring, and came from the
East, Mother Jael said, in the old, old days. It looks rather Egyptian,
so perhaps Cleopatra wore it when she went to meet Anthony!'

'Such nonsense! but it is a dear, lovely ring, and I'll wear it always.'

'I think I deserve a kiss from you for my trouble,' said George, drawing
her lovely, glowing face towards him. 'There, darling; the next ring I
place on your finger will be a plain golden one, not from the East, but
from an honest Beorminster jeweller.'

'But, George'--Mab laid her head on his breast--'I am not sure if I
ought to accept it, really. Your father does not know of our
engagement.'

'I intend to tell him when I next visit Beorminster, my love. Indeed,
but that he takes this wretched murder so much to heart I would have
told him to-day. Still, you need not scruple to wear it, dearest, for
your aunt and my mother are both agreed that you will make me the
sweetest of wives.'

'Aunty is always urging me to ask you to tell your father.'

'Then you can inform her that I'll do so next--why, here _is_ your aunt,
my dear.'

'Aunty!' cried Mab, as Miss Whichello, like a little white ghost, moved
into the room. 'I thought your head was so bad.'

'It is better now, my dear,' replied the old lady, who really looked
very ill. 'How do you do, Captain Pendle?'

'Hadn't you better call me George, Miss Whichello?'

'No, I hadn't, my dear man; at least, not until your engagement with Mab
is an accomplished fact.'

'But it is an accomplished fact now, aunty,' said Mab, showing the ring.
'Here is the visible sign of our engagement.'

'A strange ring, but very charming,' pronounced Miss Whichello,
examining the jewel. 'But does the bishop know?'

'I intend to tell him when I come back next week' said George, promptly.
'At present he is too upset with this murder to pay much attention to my
love affairs.'

'Upset with this murder!' cried the little lady, dropping into a chair.
'I don't wonder at it. I am quite ill with the news.'

'I'm sure I don't see why, aunty. This Jentham tramp wasn't a relative,
you know.'

Miss Whichello shuddered, and, if possible, turned pale