And, as if that were not mystery enough, there was
something slipped over the clasped necklace and hanging from it,
as Waitstill held it up to the light--a circlet of plain gold, a
wedding-ring!
Waitstill stood motionless in the cold with such a throng of
bewildering thoughts, misgivings, imaginings, rushing through her
head that they were like a flock of birds beating their wings
against her ears. The imaginings were not those of absolute dread
or terror, for she knew her Patty. If she had seen the necklace
alone she would have been anxious, indeed, for it would have
meant that the girl, urged on by ungoverned desire for the
ornament, had accepted present from one who should not have given
it to her secretly; but the wedding-ring meant some-thing
different for Patty,-- something more, something certain,
something unescapable, for good or ill. A wedding-ring could
stand for nothing but marriage. Could Patty be married? How,
when, and where could so great a thing happen without her
knowledge? It seemed impossible. How had such a child surmounted
the difficulties in the path? Had she been led away by the
attractions of some stranger? No, there had been none in the
village. There was only one man who had the worldly wisdom or the
means to carry Patty off under the very eye of her watchful
sister; only one with the reckless courage to defy her father;
and that was Mark Wilson.
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