"What of our clothing? Was none of it marked, or had she nothing in her pocket?" "No, the clothing was not marked, and she had nothing in her pocket but a lace handkerchief, also unmarked. That handkerchief I have kept, with the clothing. And I have also kept a ring she wore upon one of her fingers." "Was that marked?" "It had been, but it was so worn that we could not make out the marking, nor could the two jewelers by whom we had the ring inspected." "I would like to see the ring." "I will get it," returned Mrs. Ruthven, and left the room. Soon she came back with a small jewel casket, from which she took a ring and a very dainty lace handkerchief. "Here is the ring," she said, as she passed it over to Jack. "It looks like a wedding ring," said the youth, as he gazed at the circlet of gold. "I believe it is a wedding ring." Jack looked inside and saw some markings, but all were so faint that it was impossible to make out more than the figures 1 and 8. "Those figures stand for eighteen hundred and something, I imagine," said Mrs. Ruthven. "They must give the year when your mother was married." "I suppose you are right." "The ring belongs to you, Jack. I would advise you to be careful of it." "If you please, I would like to have you keep it for the present." "I will do that willingly." The handkerchief was next examined. But it seemed to be without markings of any kind, and was soon returned to the jewel case along with the ring. "Now tell me how Marion came to tell you of the past," said Mrs. Ruthven, after putting the jewel case away. "I made her tell me the truth," said Jack. "But how did you suspect this at first?" "Because of something St. John said to Darcy Gilbert." "What did he say?" "Oh, it doesn't matter much--now, mother. He told Darcy I wasn't your son." "What else did he say?" "Oh, I think I had better not say." "But you must tell me, Jack; I insist upon knowing." "He told Darcy that I was a nobody, and that I would have to go away some day." At these words Mrs. Ruthven's face flushed angrily. "St. John is taking too much upon his shoulders," she cried. "This is no business of his." "I may be a nobody, but, but"--Jack stammered--"if he says anything to me, I am afraid there will be a row." "He shall not say anything to you. I will speak to him about this. Leave it all to me." "But he shall not insult me," said Jack sturdily. Marion had left the apartment, to change her clothing, so she did not hear what was said about St. John. A few words more on the subject passed between the lady of the plantation and the youth, and then the talk shifted back to Jack's past. "Some day I am going to find out who I am." said the boy. "There must be some way to do this." "Are you then so anxious to leave me, Jack?" asked Mrs. Ruthven, and the tears sprang into her eyes. "No, no, mother; I will not leave you so long as you wish me to stay!" he exclaimed. "It isn't that. But this mystery of the past must be solved."