“You do, indeed. I began by making disagreeable remarks about your personal appearance, did I not? If you will be a brute, I will be a—cat.”
“You will acquit yourself with credit. But I will not quarrel with you to-day.” He rose suddenly and went over to her, but she was already on her feet. She dropped her eyes, then raised them appealingly; but the sea was level.
“Do not kiss me,” she said.
“Why not?”
“I would rather not—yet. Do you know that I have never kissed a man—a lover, I mean—in my life? And this is so sudden—I would rather wait.”
He raised her hand chivalrously to his lips. “I will wait,” he said; “but you will wear my ring?” And he took a circlet from his pocket and slipped it on her finger.
“Thank you,” she said simply and touched it with a little caressing motion.
He dropped her hand and stepped back. Miss Decker had pushed aside the portière.
“How do you do, Mr. Severance?” she said cordially; “I did not interrupt even to congratulate, but to take Jessica away for a moment. My dear, your dressmaker came down on the train with Mr. Severance and has but a minute. You had better go at once, for you know her temper is not sweet.”
“Provoking thing!” said Jessica, with a pout. It was the fourth mood to which she treated Severance in this short interview, and he looked at her with delight. “But I will get rid of her as soon as possible. Will you excuse me for a few moments? I will be back in ten.”