n a ring which had not before adorned her
finger.

It was the third of the left hand, and to my amazement I recognised the
magnificent diamond--still in the old setting--worn for so many years by
Harvey Farnham.

CHAPTER XIII

"Kismet and Miss Cunningham"

Had I paused for an instant's reflection I must have felt that it would
be impossible for me to take any open notice of the ring, but so great
was my surprise at seeing Harvey Farnham's treasured possession on Miss
Cunningham's finger that involuntarily I uttered a slight exclamation.

Biting her lip she hastily withdrew the hand, dashing the pen she had
been holding with a petulant little gesture on to the desk where she had
been writing.

"Why do you look so astonished," she cried, a certain bitterness in her
voice, "at seeing me wear the sign of my bondage?"

She tried to laugh as she spoke, giving an effect of lightness to the
words, but the effort was a failure.

I would not let her continue to think that she was right in the guess
she had made as to my emotion.

"It was not wholly that, Miss Cunningham," I returned. "Say, rather I
was surprised at seeing you wear this particular ring."

"It _is_ a remarkable one, isn't it? Far too gorgeous and
conspicuous to please me, for myself; but Mr. Wildred was anxious for me
to have it. I believe it has been in his family a long time, and has
been handed down from generation to generation of betrothed
brides--happier than myself." The last three words were spoken almost in
a whisper, but I heard and understood them as I would have understood
the faintest murmur from those lips so dearly loved.

Some dim awakening thought, scarcely clear to my own consciousness,
stirred in my mind at her strange announcement. I could not resist
further questioning.

"Did Mr. Wildred tell you that the ring was an heirloom in his family?"

"Yes. There is a romance attached to it."

She sighed faintly, as though at the death of romance in her own young
life. Then, more quickly--

"Why, Mr. Stanton? Why do you ask me that?"

I could not tell her why; but my heart was bounding with a new
excitement.

"Forgive my curiosity," I said evasively. "I am interested in all that
concerns you."

She turned from me, ostensibly to arrange her scattered papers on the
little davenport, and, relieved of the thraldom of those lovely eyes, I
endeavoured to collect my scattered thoughts.

Somehow I felt that I was on the eve of