She had had poor Star’s pin made into this ring, which she had worn a few times, and then tiring of it, had thrown it into her jewel-box, where it had lain unheeded until to-night, when a sudden whim had caused her to put it on. “It is a very finely carved cameo,” he said, after a few moments, during which he had regarded it intently. “I once saw one so nearly like it that I do not think I could distinguish it from this. It belonged to—to a friend of mine, although that was in the form of a pin.” “Was your friend a lady or gentleman?” Josephine asked, quickly, and not giving herself time to realize that she was betraying undue curiosity. “A gentleman,” he returned, briefly. “It is a pretty trifle which was given to me by a relative,” Josephine said, without even wincing at the _lie_, yet feeling guilty and uncomfortable to have the stone recognized. “It is evidently quite a valuable cameo,” Lord Carrol returned, thoughtfully, “and the person of whom I spoke prized the one he had very highly, for he is something of an artist, and had it carved in Italy after a design which he made himself.” “Indeed! Is your artist an Englishman?” Miss Richards asked, with downcast eyes, and more interested in this matter than she cared to appear. “Yes; and his name is Sherbrooke—Archibald Sherbrooke,” Lord Carrol replied, while he regarded her intently. Josephine started, and the color flamed into her face. Archibald Sherbrooke! The name smote her unpleasantly, for she remembered those two initials, “A. S.,” which were marked on the back of the setting of the cameo, and having two tiny strawberry leaves engraved underneath. Could it be possible that Star—the despised girl at Yonkers—knew Archibald Sherbrooke, the _friend_ of Lord Carrol, and that he had given this elegant cameo to her? She remembered how, when she had asked her to give it to her, Star’s lips had trembled as she said “it was the gift of a friend and she did not like to part with it;” but she never imagined that the associate of a peer would take interest enough in a girl occupying the position she occupied to give her so costly an ornament as this. The thought was not a pleasant one, or it told her that if such was the case, and there could be no doubt of it, that Star was known and appreciated by one whom this English lord held in high esteem. She would have liked to question him more about this “friend” of his, but did not wish to betray too much curiosity lest he should mistrust that she had the identical stone which he referred to, and should in turn ask unpleasant questions of her. She therefore changed the subject as quickly as possible, hoping to win him to a mood more congenial with her own feelings and desires. But her efforts proved unavailing, for his lordship had suddenly become thoughtful and taciturn; and Miss Richards at last, berating herself soundly for having worn that unlucky ring that evening, signified her desire to return to the hotel.