"Just before my father died he gave me two rings; one the little gold band that hangs on my watch chain--my mother's wedding ring. The other a stone he had given her on the day of their betrothal. When he laid them in my hand, he said: 'Wear one always. If you should ever marry, give the other, with my blessing, to the woman who bears our name.' Because it was his wish, I simply obey his injunction, and trust the ring sacred from my mother's touch will grace the hand it was once my fondest hope, my most ardent wish to claim. This should reach you the day we leave Sydney. The sham is ended. Your freedom is now complete. Do not hesitate to use it in any way that will restore the happiness you so unwisely, so rashly imperilled. If possible, your path in future shall be spared my shadow. Good-bye. "HERRIOTT." The words stung like a scourge, and involuntarily she covered her face with her hands. Time merely increased his bitterness; there was nothing more for her to hope or expect. He intended perpetual separation. Mechanically she lifted the ring from its velvet bed. It was a superb diamond, marked on the inside of the gold band, "Fergus to Una." The circle fitted only one finger, that wearing the wedding ring, and was too broad to share it. She replaced the jewel in its case and closed it. A little later, when Mrs. Mitchell came in, the stony, despairing face of the girl startled her. She ran forward and took her in her arms. "What is the matter? You have shut me out long enough; now I will know. You have heard from Mr. Herriott?" "Yes. He sent me a check-book for money on deposit and a ring that had been his mother's." "What are you breaking your heart over? O my baby, don't keep your trouble from me! The dreadful night you went away you asked me not to question you, but I must; I can't bear the sight of your dear face. Nobody loves you as I do, and you know you can trust me." Eglah was silent a moment, and Eliza felt her shiver. "Yes, I am sure your love is the truest I shall ever possess, and I trust you; but some things are like red coals, and you shrink from handling them. Suppose you had wounded your Robert so deeply, so sorely he never forgave you, would you wish to drag the horror up and talk of the details? Put yourself in my place." "I cannot understand, because Mr. Herriott loves you so devotedly he would forgive anything you might have done." "You do not know him; neither did I before I left home. I made the mistake of presuming too far on his love. I wronged him, and he will never forgive me." "I refuse to believe you wronged him."