return till evening. I thought I would bring word myself. How are you going to repay me."
"With thanks."
"That's not good enough. I must ask myself to your father's dinner. It is a shame it should be wasted. Besides," he added, taking the hesitating girl's arm and leading her into the parlour, where the dinner was laid, "I want to finish our conversation. Come now, you say grace, and I'll carve. The first of many a dinner we will have together, Gwyneth."
"But, Travers, I've been thinking——"
"No, you have not—no second thoughts. I stand by the vow you gave me yesterday. Allow me to help you to this juicy mutton. I've come for the token you promised. I see you are wearing the ring. What does your father say."
"He had not noticed it. I have not told him."
"But you must. Allow me to pour you out some tea."
"Travers, you are incorrigible. You come to preside at my table."
"Long may I do so!"
"You are too rude. Would you usurp my very tea-things?"
The meal, with much lovers' talk, finished, Travers insisted upon being invested with the promised token. After much parley it was brought forth—a silver pocket-case with portrait of Gwyneth and her mother painted on ivory. The case had been her mother's. After a profitable contract, her father had had the two photographs copied, and presented it to his daughter two years before.
"You look, in the portrait, almost as sweet as you are, my Gwyneth."
