It is a plain circlet of thick gold, somewhat worn
now, a posy-ring, and on its inner surface is cut this quaint couplet:
Heart to heart, Though far apart.
A fitting motto for us indeed, and one that has its meaning to this
hour.
That same day of our farewell I rode with my father to Yarmouth. My
brother Geoffrey did not come with us, but we parted with kindly words,
and of this I am glad, for we never saw each other again. No more was
said between us as to Lily Bozard and our wooing of her, though I knew
well enough that so soon as my back was turned he would try to take my
place at her side, as indeed happened. I forgive it to him; in truth I
cannot blame him much, for what man is there that would not have desired
to wed Lily who knew her? Once we were dear friends, Geoffrey and I, but
when we ripened towards manhood, our love of Lily came between us, and
we grew more and more apart. It is a common case enough. Well, as it
chanced he failed, so why should I think unkindly of him? Let me rather
remember the affection of our childhood and forget the rest. God rest
his soul.
Mary, my sister, who after Lily Bozard was now the fairest maiden in the
country side, wept much at my going. There was but a year between us,
and we loved each other dearly, for no such shadow of jealousy had
fallen on our affection.
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