"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 superstitious?" 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 gods," 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.