'A good girl?' she repeated absently! then, hurrying over the words as if anxious they should get themselves said and heard: 'I wish you to give to her, or to some other girl you really like, and whose young man you think well of, this wedding ring. Please don't say it comes from me. And, Cecily, one thing more--you need not tell me to whom you have given it.' Poor Cecily! perhaps she was slow-witted, but no thought of the true significance of the little incident crossed her mind. Mrs. Robinson was famed among the workers of the Settlement for her odd, intelligent little acts of kindness, accordingly a pretty romance somewhat in this wise thistle-downed itself on the girl's brain: Characters--Penelope and Poor Lady. Poor Lady--stress of poverty--having to part with cherished possessions, has good luck to meet Mrs. Robinson who buys from her, among other things--of course at a fancy price--her wedding-ring. Remembering that gold wedding-rings are prized heirlooms in the neighbourhood of the Settlement---- 'It would greatly add to the value of the gift,' Cecily said shyly, 'if I might say it came from you.' 'No, no, no!' Mrs. Robinson spoke with sharp decision; her blue eyes narrowed and darkened in displeasure. 'My dear child, you don't understand. Come!'--she made an effort to speak lightly, even caressingly--'do not let us say anything more about it.' Then, looking rather coldly into the other's startled eyes, she added: 'I have never before known you wanting in _la politesse du coeur_. Haven't you heard the expression before? No? Well, it was a famous Frenchman's definition of tact.' She laid her left hand on the girl's arm, and, as they moved together towards the door, Cecily became aware that the hand lying on her arm was ringless. CHAPTER IV 'The inner side of every cloud Is bright and shining: I therefore turn my clouds about, And always wear them inside out, To show the lining!' I Cecily Wake had not been brought up by her aunt. Even before the death of her father, which had followed that of her mother at an interval of some years, she had been placed in one of those convent schools which, in certain exceptional circumstances, take quite little children as boarders. Accordingly, till the age of eighteen, the only home she had ever known was the large, old-fashioned Georgian manor-house near Brighton, which had been adapted to suit the requirements of the French nuns who had first gone there in 1830.