"
"Well, I haven't. Someway, it seemed to suit you as jewels seldom suit
anybody, and you had it on the other night when you promised to marry
me. Both times you were wearing the spangled gown, and that's why I
asked for it to-night, and why I've had your engagement ring made of a
turquoise."
Isabel murmured inarticulately, but he went on, heedlessly: "It's made
of silver because you're my Silver Girl, the design is all roses because
it was in the time of roses, and it's a turquoise for reasons I've told
you. Our initials and the date are inside."
Allison slipped it on her finger and struck a match that she might see
it plainly. Isabel turned it on her finger listlessly.
"Very pretty," she said, in a small, thin voice, after an awkward pause.
"Why, dearest," he cried, "don't you like it?"
"It's well enough," she answered, slowly, "but not for an engagement
ring. Everybody else has diamonds. I thought you cared enough for me to
give me a diamond," she said, reproachfully.
"I do," he assured her, "and you shall have diamonds--as many as I can
give you. Why, sweet, this is only the beginning.
Pages:
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213