one ring in memory of Allan, who has done to requite your kindness, if not all he wished, at least all he could."
Annot Lyle endeavoured in vain to restrain the gathering tears, when she said, "One ring, Allan, I will accept from you as a memorial of your goodness to a poor orphan, but do not press me to take more; for I can not, and will not, accept a gift of such disproportioned value."
"Make your choice, then," said Allan; "your delicacy may be well-founded; the others shall assume a shape in which they may be more useful to you."
"Think not of it," said Annot, choosing from the contents of the casket a ring, apparently the most trifling in value which it contained; "keep them for your own, or your brother's bride.—But, good heavens!" she said, interrupting herself, and looking at the ring, "what is this that I have chosen?"
Allan hastened to look upon it, with eyes of gloomy apprehension; it bore, in
