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"Oh, but pearls are unlucky--she couldn't have pearls," protested Lady Isabel.
"They mean tears, don't they?" Alex contributed to the discussion, for the sake of making her mother see that she was willing to do her best.
"Are you superst.i.tious?" Noel asked rather reproachfully. "I can't say I believe in all that sort of thing myself, you know. In fact I make rather a principle of doing things on a 13th, or walking under ladders, and all the rest of it, just to prove there's nothing in it."
Sir Francis fixed the young man benevolently through his monocle.
"I presume, however, that in this instance you prefer not to tempt the G.o.ds," he remarked affably, and Noel, always obviously in awe of his betrothed's father, hastily agreed with him.
"Then it's diamonds, is it?--unless Alex prefers the emerald."
"I like the diamond one best," Noel reiterated. "I really pitched on that one the minute I saw it. I like originality."
"Well, it couldn't be lovelier," said Lady Isabel contentedly.
The jeweller was shown out, leaving the diamond marquise ring, in its little white-velvet case, on the table in front of Alex.
Sir Francis opened the door for his wife and Mrs. Cardew.
"Oh," said Noel urgently. "You _must_ stay and see her put it on."
Both ladies laughed at the boyish exclamation, and Alex flushed scarlet once more.
Noel opened the case and looked proudly at his gift.
"You must put it on for her," said his mother, "when it's been made smaller."
The hint was unmistakable.
Noel held out the ring.
"Let's see it on now at once, Alex. It can go back to the shop later."
Alex, in a sort of utter desperation, thrust out her hand, and Noel, politely and carefully avoiding touching it with his own, slipped the heavy hoop over her finger.
"Thank you," she stammered.
There was another laugh.
"Poor dears! Let's leave them in peace," cried Mrs. Cardew mockingly, and rustled to the door again.
"Did you ever see anything so young as they both are?" she murmured sweetly to Lady Isabel, audibly enough for Alex to guess at the words, if she did not actually hear them.
She was thankful that they should no longer be watching her, and turned with something like relief to Noel's gratified, uncritical looks.
It became suddenly much easier to speak unconstrainedly.
Perhaps she was subconsciously aware that of all of them, it was Noel himself who would expect the least of her, because his demands upon her were so infinitesimal.
"It's a beautiful ring; thank you very, very much. I--" She stopped and gulped, then said bravely, "I _love_ it."
She emphasized the word almost without knowing it, as though to force from him some response.
Although she had never actually realized it, it was a word which, in point of fact, had never yet pa.s.sed between them. Noel's fair face coloured at last, as his light eyes met her unconsciously tragical gaze.
"_Alex a son air bete aujourd'hui._"
With horrid inappropriateness, the hated gibe of her schooldays flashed into Alex' thoughts, stiffening her face into the old lines of morbid, self-conscious misery.
Part of her mind, in unwilling detachment, contemplated ruefully the oddly inadequate spectacle which they must present, staring shamefacedly at one another across the glittering token of their troth.
Frenziedly desirous of breaking the silence, heavy with awkwardness, that hung between them, she began to speak hastily and almost at random.
"Thank you so very much--I've never had such a lovely present--it's lovely; thank you so much."
"I thought you'd like it," muttered Noel, more overcome with confusion, if possible, than was Alex.
"Oh, yes, yes. It's lovely."
"I thought you'd like something rather original, you know, not a conventional one."
"Oh, yes!"
"You're sure you wouldn't rather have one of the others--that emerald one that mother liked?"
"Oh, no."
"I dare say they'd let me change it, the man knows us very well."
"Oh, no, no."
"Well, I, I--I'm awfully glad you like it."
"Yes, I _do_ like it. I--I think it's lovely."
"I--I thought you'd like it."
Alex began to feel as though she was in a nightmare, but she was mysteriously unable to put an end to their sorry dialogue.
"It's perfectly lovely, I think. I don't know how to thank you."
Noel swallowed two or three times, visibly and audibly, and then took a couple of determined steps towards her.
"I think you--you'd better let me kiss you," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "You haven't yet, you know."
Something deep down within Alex was surging up in angry bewilderment, and she was sufficiently aware of a sense of protest to rebut it indignantly and with lightning-swift determination.
It was the humility of love that had prompted her lover to crave that permission which should never have been asked.