one of the young girls to help their mother to dress. Instead of coming in, Perdita lingered at the door.
"Come in, come in," said Viola. "We've more than an hour yet. I should like you very much to give a few strokes to my hair." She knew that her sister wished to retreat, and that she could see in the glass all her movements in the room. "Nay, just help me with my hair," she said, "and I'll go to mamma."
Perdita came reluctantly, and took the brush. She saw her sister's eyes, in the glass, fastened hard upon her hands. She had not made three passes, when Viola clapped her own right hand upon her sister's left, and started out of her chair. "Whose ring is that?" she cried passionately, drawing her towards the light.
On the young girl's third finger glistened a little gold ring, adorned with a couple of small rubies. Perdita felt that she need no longer keep her secret, yet that she must put a bold face on her avowal. "It's mine," she said proudly.
"Who gave it to you?" cried the other.
Perdita hesitated a moment. "Mr. Lloyd."
"Mr. Lloyd is generous, all of a sudden."
"Ah no," cried Perdita, with spirit, "not all of a sudden. He offered it to me a month ago."
"And you needed a month's begging to take it?" said Viola, looking at the little trinket; which indeed
