"Poor dears! Let's leave them in peace," cried Mrs. Cardew mockingly, and rustled to the door again.
"Did you ever see anything so young as they both are?" she murmured sweetly to Lady Isabel, audibly enough for Alex to guess at the words, if she did not actually hear them.
She was thankful that they should no longer be watching her, and turned with something like relief to Noel's gratified, uncritical looks.
It became suddenly much easier to speak unconstrainedly.
Perhaps she was subconsciously aware that of all of them, it was Noel himself who would expect the least of her, because his demands upon her were so infinitesimal.
"It's a beautiful ring; thank you very, very much. I—" She stopped and gulped, then said bravely, "I love it."
She emphasized the word almost without knowing it, as though to force from him some response.
Although she had never actually realized it, it was a word which, in point of fact, had never yet passed between them. Noel's fair face coloured at last, as his light eyes met her unconsciously tragical gaze.
"Alex a son air bête aujourd'hui."
With horrid inappropriateness, the hated gibe of her schooldays flashed into Alex' thoughts, stiffening her face into the old lines of morbid, self-conscious misery.