Ronald Valchester looked round, slightly annoyed, as Violet Earle and a gay group of girls came up to him.

"One should never contradict a lady," he said, "but really, Miss Earle, your charge against Miss Meredith is misplaced. I was only examining her ring."

"And only think, Violet, Mr. Valchester says the stone is a real diamond. I am so surprised and delighted. I did not dream of such a thing until just now, when he spoke of it. I thought it only a mere, valueless bit of shining glass."

The eager voice and pleased face were too truthful to admit of doubt.

Everyone but Violet gave up the thought of a flirtation at once. The girls crowded round to look at Jaquelina's ring.

"Where did you get it?" "Who gave it you?" were some of the questions they asked her.

"It was my mother's ring," she said, in answer to them all. "I did not know till Mr. Valchester told me that it was a real diamond."

"I suppose it is worth a great deal," one of the girls said to him.

"A hundred dollars, perhaps—or it may be a hundred and fifty," he replied carelessly, while Jaquelina drew a long breath of surprise and delight.

A hundred dollars seemed quite a little fortune in her eyes. She looked at the pretty ring in awe and wonder, to think that she had possessed it so long without dreaming of its value.

"We need you to make up the dance, Lina," said Violet. "The Hamiltons, the Perrys and the Deanes have all gone home, and we have not enough for the Lancers unless you and Mr. Valchester will come to our assistance—will you?"

Both answered yes, and went with the girls to take their places in the dance. Before the party was over he had said to her:

"May I come over and hear you sing to-morrow afternoon—under the apple-trees?"

"Yes," she answered simply.

He came alone. It must have required an amount of finesse and strategy for him to get away from Walter and Violet. But he accomplished it.

Jaquelina was waiting for him under the apple-trees. Her heart thrilled with a strange pleasure as she saw the tall, handsome young man coming toward her. She wore, in anticipation of his coming, a pretty, inexpensive cambric, with a pattern of tiny rose-buds, and a delicate lace frill fastened at her throat with a cluster of roses. He saw that she had grown more delicately lovely since last year. The tanned complexion had acquired a mellow, creamy fairness, the short, soft rings of hair were longer, and clustered on her shoulders in shining luxuriance, the crimson lips had taken a softer, tender curve, the dark eyes had grown dreamy and thoughtful.

"You came alone?" she said, and there was an accent of surprise in her voice.

"Yes, I preferred it. Are you disappointed that Walter and Violet did not accompany me?" he inquired.

Jaquelina answered no with pretty frankness, and an utter lack of self-consciousness that was very charming.

"I dare say they would think me very selfish if they knew I had come over to the farm alone," he said. "I slipped away from them. I am very selfish sometimes. I want you to sing your pretty songs to an audience of one."

"I am quite willing," she replied, happily.

She sang several songs for him, pouring out the exquisite melodies clearly and artlessly as a bird. Ronald said to himself that it was wonderful what a voice the girl had, so strong and sweet and clear that she made him think of Shelley's sky-lark—

He remained with her fully two hours. It did not seem to him so long. The time went very fast looking at that fair face and listening to that musical voice. For a wonder Mrs. Meredith did not call her to the house for anything. Dollie had grown large enough to walk and run alone, and did not need so much attention.

"Is it true that you are going to become a governess?" he said to her. "Violet Earle told me so this morning."

"Yes, if I can find a situation," she replied. "Do you think I shall be likely to find one, Mr. Valchester?"

There was a wistful anxiety in the sweet voice. He looked at the fair young face thoughtfully.

A slanting ray of sunlight pierced the green boughs of the tree and penciled her white brow with a finger of light that brought out its child-like innocence more clearly.

"No, I hardly think you will be successful," he replied.

"You do not?" she said, and he saw the red lips quiver. "Why not, Mr. Valchester? I have studied very hard and learned a great deal since I have been away at school."

"You look too young," he replied. "No one would like to engage one who appeared so childish. You look too inexperienced."

"Do you really think that would weigh against me?" she asked, distressed. "I assure you my looks are very deceptive. I am eighteen."

"Quite a venerable age," he laughed. "Yet still very young for an instructor of youth."

"You see I only expect to teach little children," she said, apologetically.

He looked at her gravely and curiously.

"Do you think you will enjoy such a life?" he inquired.

"No," she admitted, frankly, "I do not imagine that it will be a pleasant life, certainly. But it will be better than the farm. I shall earn my support and not have my dependence continually thrust in my face by a vulgar woman."

"Poor child!" he thought to himself, as the sensitive color rushed over her brow and throat.

He left her with a thrill of deep compassion in his heart. She seemed so slight and frail a creature to take arms against the world and win her way alone.

"May I come again to-morrow—with Walter?" he added, fancying that he saw her hesitate.

"Yes," she replied, readily, "and bring Violet with you if she will come."

"Very well," he replied, "I will do so, but I shall come alone the next day to hear you sing. Are you willing?"

"They will think I am selfish if I take you away from them, I fear."

"You will not be taking me away. I belong to no one but myself," he replied. "Then, too, I shall return home in a few days, and I do not know when I shall see you again."

"You may come," she replied, quickly.

The next day he came with Violet and Walter as agreed upon. But the visit was short and unsatisfactory. Violet was fidgety and capricious. She said she had planned a visit to another young lady, and she left very soon, carrying Valchester in her train and telling Walter to remain behind and amuse Jaquelina. Walter remained very willingly. He had been thinking a great deal of what Violet had said to him about marrying Jaquelina. In consequence he had concluded to take her advice.

But it is one thing to resolve and another to execute. Jaquelina, who was exceedingly friendly and sociable with Walter in the company of others was very shy when alone with him. She somehow eluded the efforts he made to give a sentimental tone to the conversation. She sang at his request, but it was a gay and lively air.

If she had known his intention she could not have frustrated it better than she did by her unconscious indifference.

Walter went away with his love unspoken. Two days later he returned alone, having slipped away from his friend and sister, just as Valchester had done once or twice before.

Jaquelina was out under the trees reading. Little Dollie was frisking in the grass beside her. Walter thought he had never seen the girl he loved looking so fair and happy. He pleased himself with thinking how he would take her away from her uncongenial home and lavish upon her all the luxuries and adornments that would suit her beauty so well. The thought gave him courage to speak to Jaquelina. It was not long before she was blushing and trembling at these words from his lips:

"Lina, I love you dearly. Will you be my wife?"

"Oh! Mr. Earle," she cried out, looking lovely as a dream in her dismay and confusion. "I—I am very sorry for you. I did not dream of your loving me. Since yesterday I have been engaged to Mr. Valchester."