She twirled a massive ring upon her forefinger--a ring more suitable for the hand of a man, and noticeable in design--a diamond cross let into gold, with the initials "R.R." below it.
"Ah, Lyndall," Em cried, "perhaps you are engaged yourself--that is why you smile.

Yes; I am sure you are.

Look at this ring!" Lyndall drew the hand quickly from her.
"I am not in so great a hurry to put my neck beneath any man's foot; and I do not so greatly admire the crying of babies," she said, as she closed her eyes half wearily and leaned back in the chair.

"There are other women glad of such work." Em felt rebuked and ashamed.

How could she take Lyndall and show her the white linen and the wreath, and the embroidery?
She was quiet for a little while, and then began to talk about Trana and the old farm-servants, till she saw her companion was weary; then she rose and left her for the night.