"Absolutely," said Melanie. "He seemed thunderstruck."
"He's not so advanced as you," said Ben. "And I expect he was perplexed, because you don't mind wearing an engagement ring."
"That's different," said Melanie. "It's beautiful. There's some reason for that. But even that I don't wear on the ordinary finger. Why should all the world know I'm engaged? Guy doesn't wear a ring to advertise the fact; why should I?"
"He probably would if you asked him," said Ben. "And he'd wear a wedding ring too. He'd be proud to."
"Don't you think I'm right?" Melanie asked.
"No, I don't," said Ben. "Apart altogether from the fact that Guy is my brother, I don't think it's fair to either of you. Take your honeymoon, for example. I don't know where you're going, but probably to some hotel. The first thing the people at the desk look at is your left hand, and if there's no wedding ring on it your character has gone completely, and Guy's is not what it might be."
"But who cares what anyone else thinks?" Melanie asked.
"All of us," said Ben, "in one way or another. But this is a case where both of you ought to agree. If Guy took your attitude about wedding rings, I shouldn't have a word to say; but as he objects, I think you ought to give way."
"Confound your cold common sense," said Melanie. "I will think about it. But this public flaunting of one's bondage is hateful."
"You may not think it bondage later on," said Ben. "If you don't, you're all right. If you're going to for ever, I wish you'd break the whole thing off at this moment."