“Paul Hastings found it?” murmured Ida.  “The ring with my initials in?”

“Yes.  Didn’t you really lose it?”

For a moment Ida did not speak.  She was biting her lips, and her fingers were nervously playing with the fringe on the lap robe.

“Cora,” she exclaimed impulsively, “I have been mean—­hateful to you—­but—­you have not deserved it.  Sid Wilcox told me he had you out riding, and he said you spoke of a lot of things about me—­”

“What!” cried Cora.  “He dared to say that?”

“Yes; and people saw you out with him.”

“So they might have; but the truth was he jumped into my car and ran away with it without my permission.  That’s how I came to be in the motor with him.”

“He never told me that!” exclaimed Ida.  “Well, that’s just like him.  Now I will tell you.  It was he who forced that ring on me—­and I would not take it at first.  But he made me.  Then I determined to get rid of it.  I did not lose it, but I slipped it into Walter Pennington’s pocket.  Oh, Cora!  You know I—­I do like Walter, and I—­I thought if he saw that I wouldn’t keep some one else’s engagement ring that—­somehow—­he might send it back where it came from, and—­and—­”

Her tears interrupted her.  Cora did not understand.

“You put it in Walter Penniniton’s pocket?” she repeated slowly.  “Why, it was found in Paul Hastings’ pocket.”

“Wasn’t Walter dressed up like Marc Anthony?” demanded Ida, ceasing her sobbing and looking up with wonder in her eyes.

“No.  He was the clown.  Paul was the Roman,” and Cora began to see how some things had come about.

“That explains it,” murmured Ida.  “It was a mistake!  And did that that ring actually have my initials in?”

“It is marked `I.G.,’” said Cora.  “We have been expecting you to call for it.”

“Where is it now?”

“Home, in our safe.”

“Then keep it there!” exclaimed Ida, a new determination in her voice.

“But we cannot keep it,” objected Cora.  “It is not mine nor Jack’s.  Why not give it back to Sid?”

“Neither is it his,” went on Ida.  “He gave it to me, and now I ask you to keep it—­in trust.”

“I don’t see how we can do that very well.  The reason I mentioned it to you, against Jack’s wish, was that I wanted to get rid of the responsibility of keeping it.  Suppose it should be stolen?  It is quite valuable.”

“Well, I cannot take it,” insisted Ida.  “Mother would not allow me to have it in the house.  Sid said it cost five hundred dollars.”

“It is certainly a very valuable ring,” admitted Cora.  “But, Ida, if I were you I would give it back to Sid.”

“Well, perhaps I shall—­some day.  But oh, Cora, you cannot imagine what I have gone through with in the last month!” and Ida pressed her handkerchief to her swollen eyes.

“I am sorry,” said Cora simply.  “Can I help you, Ida?”