She looked up.
“You know you don’t deserve your wedding-ring, do you?” said he, taking her hand. “Do you?” he added pertinaciously.
“I suppose not,” faltered Alice, gulping down her tears with a painful effort.
“You suppose not!” he echoed impatiently. “Well, I am very certain you don’t; and the ring is likely to remain in my keeping.”
By this time they had reached the hall door-steps, where Geoffrey, in full evening dress and the usual flower in his button-hole, was awaiting them.
“At last!” he exclaimed. “So you have really come home. Well, you did not hurry yourselves,” he said, escorting them into the hall. “We began to think you had eloped—gone off together into some elegant retirement in the style of a second honeymoon.”
“Geoffrey!” cried Alice, in an agony of blushes.
“Don’t ‘Geoffrey’ me, my good girl, but go and get ready for dinner as quickly as you can; I’m starving.”
END OF VOL. II.