Oh, with what slow, cautious fingers, with what heartbroken tenderness did she take out from its guardian case the brooch which Paul had given her! It had as yet been an only present, and in thanking him for it, which she had done with full, free-spoken words of love, she had begged him to send her no other, so that that might ever be to her,--to her dying day,--the one precious thing that had been given to her by her lover while she was yet a girl. Now it must be sent back;--and, no doubt, it would go to that abominable woman! But her fingers lingered over it as she touched it, and she would fain have kissed it, had she not told herself that she would have been disgraced, even in her solitude, by such a demonstration of affection. She had given her answer to Paul Montague; and, as she would have no further personal correspondence with him, she took the brooch to her mother with a request that it might be returned.
"Of course, my dear, I will send it back to him. Is there nothing else?"

With what slow fingers, with what heartbroken tenderness did she take out from its case the brooch which Paul had given her! It had been his only present to her. Now it must be sent back; and, no doubt, it would go to that abominable woman! But her fingers lingered as she touched it, and she would fain have kissed it, had she not told herself that she would have been disgraced by such a demonstration of affection. As she would have no further personal correspondence with Paul Montague, she took the brooch to her mother with a request that it might be returned.
"Of course, my dear, I will send it back to him. Is there nothing else?"
