“That is right. I have made a wish for you, and I will tell it you, Gipsy, when we meet again. That may be sooner or later, but, in the meantime, do not remove the ring, lest the charm be broken.” “I will not,” she murmured, pledging herself blindly to a rash promise. Laurie Willoughby smiled kindly on her, and pressed the hand with the ring very closely in his own. “God bless you and keep you, little girl--good-by!” and with his going all the sunshine seemed to fade from the room, and her eyes grew dim with tears. “He is going away. Oh, how I--how every one will miss him! How sweet it was to give me this pretty ring. It is like the one Miss Ritchie wears, and quite too fine for me, I am afraid. But I shall wear it because he said I must. Oh, I wonder what it was he wished for me! Something beautiful, I hope, and I shall be impatient till he comes again and tells me the wish,” and hearing Laurie and his aunt going down the stairs together, she raised her fragile hand to her face, and kissed the sparkling diamond with eager lips. Her eyes glowed like stars, her cheeks burned; she had never felt so strangely, deliriously happy her whole life long, poor, loving, innocent Gipsy! CHAPTER XIV. A CRY IN THE NIGHT. Quite unconscious of the episode of the ring, and deeply grieved at Laurie’s abrupt departure, his aunt accompanied him down to the door, with many injunctions to return as soon as possible. “But Lelia--she has not bidden you good-by yet, Laurie.” “Oh, yes, we have had our parting. She is probably grieving in her room now. You must comfort her when I am gone,” he replied, with a bitter laugh, kissing her good-by, and running down the steps to the trap that stood waiting. Something in his bitter tone struck coldly on her heart, and she thought, in dismay: “Oh, dear, perhaps they have quarreled over something or other. No, I will not try to comfort her, that would be beyond my power. But, oh, dear, what a cat-and-dog life they are going to lead together, these two, always quarreling and making up again.” Lelia, sulking in her room and planning vindictively how she would make Laurie jealous this evening flirting with Warren Beihl, dreamed not of the flight of her victim till she appeared, radiantly beautiful, in the parlor just before tea, where all the guests were assembled. “We are all here except Mr. Willoughby--where is he?” inquired the vivacious Mrs. Thurston. “Laurie?” said the hostess. “Why, didn’t Lelia tell you he has suddenly been called away to town? He went by the afternoon train, hours ago.” Involuntarily, they all looked at Lelia, who was so startled out of her composure that a cry of dismay burst from her lips. She became death-white, too, and leaned back heavily in her chair for support. Every one saw that she had received a shock by the pallor of her face and the uncontrollable cry that had leaped to her lips. Bessie Hall exclaimed rashly: “Didn’t you know he was gone, Lelia?”