"Uh-huh!"
"You might have asked me to go along."
"Huh!"
"You're extra polite this morning!" his sister observed with irony. "Whatever are you reading? Well, of all things! A jeweler's catalogue! What on earth—"
Angus held it out to her.
"Here," he said, "I know nothing about such things. Pick out a ring."
"A ring!" Miss Jean exclaimed, astounded. "I don't want a ring, I mean I can get along without one."
"That's lucky," said her brother, "because the ring I want you to pick out is for Faith."
"Good Lord!" cried Miss Jean, and fell limply upon a couch. Recovering herself she rushed upon him, threw her arms around his neck, and punctuated her words with emphatic hugs. "You big, old fraud. But I'm glad, really I am. When—where—"
"Last night," Angus told her. "That was what I was making up my mind about. I didn't know whether I should ask her just now."