“Mother was up to Mallaby House for dinner a little while ago,” interrupted Nellie, as though she had not heard him.
“Yes? That’s good. Fine place, ain’t it? As I was sayin’, I forgot myself––”
“They talked about us, too; mother says that’s nearly all they talked about.”
“Must’ve been short of conversation. An’ I want to say, Nellie, that I’ll try never to speak like that to you again. I––”
“Mother says she learned things about you that she never had imagined before,” persisted Nellie, with quiet insistence. But again Nat did not seem to have heard her. With an awkward motion he drew from his pocket the little glazed paper box that contained the engagement-ring.
“Please,” he said, “I want you to take this again.” He was in earnest.
“It’s strange Elsa Mallaby should be able to tell mother things about you.”
Nat lost his patience. He had tried his best to make peace, and the girl was only baiting him for her own amusement.
“What the deuce is all this about that Mallaby woman?” he asked. “I should think you’d listen to me, Nellie.”
“If you will listen to me first, then I’ll listen to you as long as you like.”