“How pretty!” she said, taking it and looking at it. Then she handed it back.
He laughed gayly. “It’s yours, Carrie. You’re going to marry me.”
She looked at him queerly.
“Am I? But I’ve got another ring already,” she said.
“Oh, send Alwyn’s back.”
“I have. This is still another.” And uncovering her hand she showed a ring with a large and beautiful diamond.
He rose. “Whose is that?” he demanded apprehensively.
‚ÄúMine‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù her eyes met his.
“But who gave it to you?”
‚Äú Mr. ¬ÝStillings,‚Äù was the soft reply.
He stared at her helplessly. ‚ÄúI‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚ÅÝ‚Äîdon‚Äôt understand!‚Äù he stammered.
‚ÄúWell, to be brief, I‚Äôm engaged to Mr. ¬ÝStillings.‚Äù
‚ÄúWhat! To that flat-headed‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“No,” she coolly interrupted, “to the Register of the Treasury.”
The man was too dumbfounded, too overwhelmed for coherent speech.
‚ÄúBut‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut‚ÅÝ‚Äîcome; why in God‚Äôs name‚ÅÝ‚Äîwill you throw yourself away on‚ÅÝ‚Äîon such a‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou‚Äôre joking‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù