“I’ll warrant he does. Who could help loving thee, Kitty? But men’s love isn’t mother’s love; it is a good bit more selfish. God Almighty made thy father, John Atheling, of the best of human elements; but John Atheling has his shabby moments. Piers Exham won’t be different; so don’t expect it.” Then the two women looked at each other and smiled.
They understood.
CHAPTER ELEVENTH
“LIFE COMES AND GOES THE OLD, OLD WAY!”
Annabel had purposely kept out of Kitty’s way. She had more than a suspicion of the probable interview between the Duchess and Kitty; and she wished to avoid any unpleasantness with the Athelings. They gave her the most reliable opportunities with Cecil North; and besides, she was so little of a general favourite as to have no other acquaintances as intimate. She was also really sick and unhappy; and the first occurrence of the day did not tend to make her less so. She wished to see the Duke about some matter relating to her finances; and, as soon as she left her room, she went to the apartment in which she was most likely to find him.
The Duke was not there, but Squire Atheling was waiting for him. He said he “had an appointment at two o’clock,” and then, looking at the time-piece on the mantel, added, “I always give myself ten minutes or so to come and go on.” Annabel knew this peculiarity of the Squire, and made her little joke on the matter; and then the conversation turned a moment on Kitty, and her probable return home. Annabel assured the Squire she had already gone home, and then, offering her hand in adieu, was about to leave the room. The little brown-gemmed hand roused a sudden memory and anxiety in his heart. He detained it, as he said, “Miss Vyner, I have a question to ask you. Do you remember untying a parcel for me the other day?”
“I should think so,” she replied with a laugh. “A more impatient man to do anything for I never saw.”
“I am a bit impatient. But that is not what I am thinking of. You wore a ring that day–a sapphire ring with a little sapphire padlock–and that ring interests me very much. Will you tell me where you got it?”
“No, sir. Even if I knew, I might have excellent reasons for not telling you. Why, Squire, I am astonished at your asking such a question! Rings have mostly a story–a love-story too; you might be asking for secrets!”
“I beg pardon. To be sure I might. But you see a ring exactly like the one you wore, holds a secret of my own.”