"I have but one room left," I said to this latecomer. "And one is all I want," he said. Then, with a quick glance at my face: "I suppose you are a little particular whom you put into the oak parlor. Not everyone appreciates such romantic surroundings." I looked at him, completely puzzled. "The room is gloomy and uninviting," I said. "But beyond that, I do know of no especial claim it has upon our interest." "You astonish me," he said with an expression of surprise and incredulity -- and walked on, very thoughtfully, straight to the room. At the door he paused. "Don't you know the secret of the oak parlor?"

*

"Is there no bit of clothing or jewelry left upon her by which we might hope to identify her?" I asked and realized the nature of the doubts I there beheld. "Here is a ring I found upon the wedding finger," he replied. And he held out a plain gold circlet which I eagerly took, looked at and fell at their feet as senseless as a stone.