She started guiltily, and then began bunglingly to draw from me whether I had noticed anything of it.  I took her hands, and looked her full in the face.

“I love you and honor you from the very bottom of my soul, Kate!”

“Not now!  You can’t!  You must despise me!” she answered, turning away with a swelling bosom.

“I declare I never held you in so high estimation.  Evil thoughts must come, even to the holiest saint; but only those who admit and welcome them are guilty,—­not those who repel and conquer them.  Surely not!”

“Thank you, Charlie.  That is encouraging and comforting doctrine; and I think it is true.  But what a lesson I have had to-day!”

“Yes, it has been a striking one.  I will write about it to Mary.”

“Oh, no! for mercy’s sake don’t expose me further!”

“Then you wish her to think you are too immaculate to be even tempted! stronger, purer even than our Saviour! for he knew temptation.  You are above it,—­are you?  Come, Kate,—­insincerity, pretension, and cowardice are not your failings, and I shall tell Mary of this incident, which has deeply moved me, and will, I know, really interest her.  Here comes Alice.”

The little lady presented herself before us all smiles, concealing one hand under her apron.

“Who’s lost what I’ve found?” she cried.

“One of us, of course,” said Kate.

“No, neither, so far as I know; but it nearly concerns you, Miss Lina, and I intend to drive a hard bargain.”

“What are your terms?”

“Promise faithfully to tell me how it came where I found it, and I will show it to you,—­yes, give it to you,—­though, perhaps, I have the best claim to it, as nearest of kin to the owner.”

Kate changed color, but would not betray too much eagerness.

“I cannot promise,” she replied, trying for coolness,—­“but if I can, I will tell you all you want to know about it.”

Alice could hide it no longer.  She held up a ring, with a motto on it in blue enamel.  I had seen it upon Kate’s finger, but not recently.

“Where did you find it?” asked my sister, with difficulty.  She was very pale.

“In the box-tree arbor.  How came it there?  It was Watty’s, for I was with him when he bought it in Venice.  I can believe that it is yours; but how came it lost, and trampled into the earth?  Didn’t you care for it?”

She questioned with an arch smile.  She knew better than that, and she was burning with curiosity to understand why finding it moved Kate so deeply.  She had a young girl’s curiosity about love-affairs.  I came to the conclusion that Kate had offered to return the ring on the day they parted, and that it fell to the ground, disregarded by both, occupied, as they were, with great emotions.

“Come,” continued Alice,—­“did he, or you, throw it away?  Speak, and you shall have it.”

“I can tell you nothing about it, and I will not claim your treasure-trove.  Keep it, Ally.”