beautiful and useless hand I wanted you to see. It was my engagement ring."

"Oh!--Well?" he went on, slowly.

"I've never had it off since you left New York," she said, softly. "You
gave it to me four years ago. Do you remember? It was on my twenty-second
birthday. You said it would take two months' salary to pay the bill."

"It sure did," he retorted, with a hint of humor.

"Glenn, during the war it was not so--so very hard to wear this ring as an
engagement ring should be worn," said Carley, growing more earnest. "But
after the war--especially after your departure West it was terribly hard to
be true to the significance of this betrothal ring. There was a let-down in
all women. Oh, no one need tell me! There was. And men were affected by
that and the chaotic condition of the times. New York was wild during the
year of your absence. Prohibition was a joke.--Well, I gadded, danced,
dressed, drank, smoked, motored, just the same as the other women in our
crowd. Something drove me to. I never rested. Excitement seemed to be
happiness--Glenn, I am not making any plea to excuse all that. But I want
you to know--how under trying circumstances--I was absolutely true to you.
Understand me. I mean true as regards love. Through it all I loved you
just the same. And now I'm with you, it seems, oh, so much more! . . . Your
last letter hurt me. I don't know just how. But I came West to see you--to
tell you this--and to ask you. . . . Do you want this ring back?"

"Certainly not," he replied, forcibly, with a dark flush spreading over his
face.

"Then--you love me?" she whispered.