eyes
than those of Luke Merlyn. Luke said it was the ring that wrought the
change,--that he could see its light all around her,--that it had a
charm of which they could know nothing save by its results, for its
secret had perished with its owner in the sea. His mermaid he would
sometimes call her,--and declared that often, by that mysterious pearly
light, he saw Clarice when far out at sea, and that at any time by two
words he could bring her to him. She knew the words,--they were as dear
to her as to him.

While Clarice was thus unfolding to this loveliness through love, Bondo
Emmins suddenly saw her as if for the first time. The vision was to him
as surprising as if the ring had indeed a power of enchantment, and
it had been thrown around him. He was as active and as resolute in
attempting to persuade himself that all this was nothing to him as
he was active and resolute in other endeavors,--but he was not as
successful as he supposed he should be. For it was not enough that
Emmins should laugh at himself, and say that the pretty couple were
meant for each other. Now and then, by accident, he obtained a glimpse
of Clarice's happy heart; the pearl-like secret of their love, which was
none the less a secret because everybody knew that Luke and Clarice were
to be married some day, would sometimes of itself unexpectedly give some
token, which he, it seemed, could better appreciate than any one beside
the parties concerned. When some such glimpse was obtained, some such
token received, Bondo Emmins would retire within himself to a most
gloomy seclusion; there was a world which had been conquered, and
therein he had no foothold. If Clarice wore the pearl in her bosom, on
Luke's head was a crown, and Bondo Emmins just hated him for that.

But he never thought of a very easy method by which he might have
escaped the trouble of his jealousy. The great highway of ocean was open
before him, and millions of men beside Luke Merlyn were in the world,
millions of women beside Clarice Briton. No! Diver's Bay,--and a score
of people,--and a thought that smelt like brimstone, and fiery enough
to burn through the soul that tried to keep it,--this for
him;--fishing,--making bargains,--visiting at Old Briton's,--making
presents to the dame,--telling stories, singing songs by that fireside,
and growing quieter by every other,--that was the way he did it;--cured
himself of jealousy? No! made himself a fool.

Old Briton liked this young