Trelyon?" Wenna said,
looking down.
"Oh, I don't know," he said cheerfully: he would have no question of
his going away interfere with the happiness of the present moment.
At length, however, they had to bethink themselves of getting back,
for the western skies were deepening in color and the evening air was
growing chill. They ran the small cutter back to her moorings: then
they put off in the small boat for the shore. It was a beautiful,
quiet evening. Wenna, who had taken off her glove and was allowing
her bare hand to drag through the rippling water, seemed to be lost in
distant and idle fancies not altogether of a melancholy nature.
"Wenna," her mother said, "you will get your hand perfectly chilled."
The girl drew back her hand and shook the water off her dripping
fingers. Then she uttered a slight cry. "My ring!" she said, looking
with absolute fright at her hand and then at the sea.
Of course they stopped the boat instantly, but all they could do was
to stare at the clear, dark water. The distress of the girl was beyond
expression. This was no ordinary trinket that had been lost: it was a
gage of plighted affection given her by one now far away, and in his
absence she had carelessly flung it into the sea. She had no fear of
omens, as her sister had, but surely, of all things in the world, she
ought to have treasured up this ring.
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