“I knew you would prefer it. I know all your tastes by instinct.”
“You do, Teddy. Coloured stones are so tiresome.”
“By the way, I think your old admirer, Severance, must be about to put himself in silken fetters, as Boswell would say. I caught him buying an unusually fine sapphire in Tiffany’s yesterday. Said it was for his sister. H’m—h’m.”
“Ah! I wonder who it can be?”
“Don’t know. Hasn’t looked at a woman since you left. But I have a strong suspicion that it is some one here in Newport.”
“Here! I wonder if it can be Edith?”
“Miss Decker? Sure enough. Never seemed to pay her much attention, though. She’s not my style; too much like sixteen dozen other New York girls.”
He buttoned up his coat, braced himself against it, and gave his moustache a frantic twist.
“Mrs.—Jessica!” he ejaculated desperately, “you are engaged to me—won’t you—won’t you—”
She drew herself up and glanced down upon him from her higher chair with a look of sad disapproval.