"Well, my dear Kate, a beautiful woman is strong, and money is stronger; but _True Love conquers all_." CHAPTER SEVENTH THE LOST RING "To-morrow some new light may come, and you will see things another way, Kitty." This was Mrs. Atheling's final opinion, and Kitty was inclined to take all the comfort there was in it. She was sitting then in her mother's room, watching her dress for dinner, and admiring, as good daughters will always do, everything she could find to admire about the yet handsome woman. "You have such beautiful hair, Mother. I wouldn't wear a cap if I was you," she said. "Your father likes a bit of lace on my head, Kitty. He says it makes me look more motherly." She was laying the "bit of lace" on her brown hair as she spoke. Then she took from her open jewel case, two gold pins set with turquoise, and fastened the arrangement securely. Kitty watched her with loving smiles, and finally changed the whole fashion of the bit of lace, declaring that by so doing she had made her mother twenty years younger. And somehow in this little toilet ceremony, all Kitty's sorrow passed away, and she said, "I wonder where my fears are gone to, Mother; for it does not now seem hard to hope that all is just as it was." "To be sure, Kitty, I never worry much about fears. Fears are mostly made of nothing; and in the long run they are often a blessing. Without fears, we couldn't have hopes; now could we?" "Oh, you dear, sweet, good Mother! I wish I was just like you!" "Time enough, Kitty." Then a look of love flashed from face to face, and struck straight from heart to heart; and there was a little silence that needed no words. Kitty lifted a ring and slipped it on her finger. It was a hoop of fine, dark blue sapphires, set in fretted gold, and clasped with a tiny padlock, shaped like a heart. "What a lovely ring!" she cried. "Why do you not wear it, Mother?" "Because it is a good bit too small now, Kitty." "Miss Vyner's hands are always covered with rings, and she says every one of them has a romance." "I've heard, or read, something like that. There was a woman in the story-book, was there not, who kept a tally of her lovers on a string of rings they had given her? I don't think it was anything to her credit. I shouldn't wonder if that is a bit ill-natured. I ought not to say such a thing, so don't mind it, Kitty." "Is this sapphire band yours, Mother?" "To be sure it is." [Illustration:] "May I wear it?" "Well, Kitty, I think a deal of that ring. You must take great care of it." "So then, Mother, one of your rings has a story too, has it?" And there was a little laugh for answer, and Kitty slipped the coveted trinket on her finger, and held up her hand to admire the gleam of the jewels, as she said, musingly, "I wonder what Piers is doing?" "I wouldn't 'wonder,' dearie. Little troubles are often worrited into big troubles. If things are let alone, they work themselves right. I'll warrant Piers is unhappy enough."