window, and then came back and held out her hand for the keys.

"What a pretty ring," I said; "I wonder I haven't noticed it before. You can't have had it on lately."

She looked at me fearfully and again covered her hand.

"Please give me my keys."

"Yes, if I may look at the ring."

The little book-keeper turned away, and slipping quietly on to her chair, burst into tears.

I pushed open the door of the office and walked in.

"What is it?" I whispered, bending over her and gently smoothing her hair.

"I - I hate him!" she sobbed.

"Him? - Him?"

"Yes, - the - the ring man."

I felt for the little hand among the folds or the inky table cloth, and stooped and kissed her forehead. "Forgive me, dearest -"

"Go away," she sobbed, "go away. I wish I had never seen you. It was all my fault: I left off wearing the ring on purpose, but he's coming here to-day - and - and we are so many at home - and have so little money -"

And as I went upstairs to pack I could see the little brown head bent low over the inky table-cloth.