''Yfs, that is the same ru%," she replied. " I alwaye wear it ;'' and as 'she spake she sighed. Ihe sigh was not lost upon her companion, and his eyes were very wistful as he observed, tei.derly : " Ah, what memories tint ring recalls ! Do you recol'ect tho legend attached to it " No, 1 can't say that 1 do." answered Mrs. Cunningham, with a carelessness which was too evidently assumed. ' " 1 remember that tin man told us some sillv old love story iu connec tion with it, but I really forget what it was." Allow me to rerresh your memory," said lluskisson in that low, deep voice that usually impressed the itdicsuf his acquaintance with Ins i arnestuens. "Ev<ry little circumstance of that too happy period is indelibly engraved upon my mind—indeed, I might go further anl ay upon my heart—and I am never likely to forget them. The legend, according to the ancient dealer in curios from whom we bought the ring, was, that it was muds to ord< r, in the old, old days when alchemy was a science patronised by royalty, for the daughter of or.e af the proudest ireuators of the Venetian fii public, who was about to bo married, but who, feeling doubtful as to her ability to retain her husbind's affections, ealh d in the services of » clever alchemist to make a ring which should cause the wearer to bo beloved. The charm worked so well that the fair Vmotiar. not only kept her husband's regard - which was some what unjsuai in tho;e days - but she also fasci nated all those of the opp. site fix who came uear her ; and though she gave them no en couragement, yet her admirers became so numerous that her husband grew jealous, and what with fatal duels and assassinations—for in those days the bravo's dagger was a recog nised means of getting rid of any ons whom it was too much trouble io fight—he iraiued such ,"u uneuviable notoriety that at length the Council had to take c ignisauce of the matter, end the unfortunate man crossed the Bridge of Sighs never to return." '• And what became of the poor woman r" inquired Mm. Cunning! am. 