“But she had a slim little hand, then–like mine is now–” said Kate, laughing, and spreading out her hand for Annabel to observe.
“Then you must have been talking of rings, and shown it to him.”
“I was wearing it. I had it on during the lunch hour, and you were present. It is a wonder you did not notice it, for you are so curious about finger-rings.”
“Yes, I am quite a ring collector.”
“It was rather a singular ring.”
“Will you describe it to me?”
Kate did so, and Annabel listened with apparent curiosity. “I wonder what Exham could want with such a queer ring,” she said in answer.
“Perhaps he is also a ring collector.”
“Perhaps!” But the one word by no means explained the thoughts forming in her mind. She rose, and, lifting her bonnet, went to a mirror and carefully tied the satin ribbons under her chin, in the big bows then considered vastly becoming. Kate tried to arrest her hands. “Stay and take lunch with us,” she urged. “Edgar is sure to be here; and I should like him to see you in that pretty cloth pelisse.”
“Mr. Atheling never notices me; then why should he notice my pelisse? I heard Lady Inglis say that he is very much in Miss Curzon’s society. If so, he will clash with his friend Mr. North, who is also her devoted slave.”