Following the compliment there was a moment of fire-lit silence. And then Miss Grace's voice said softly and sweetly:
"You are looking at my ring. I'm wearing it—"
So that ended that.
The tutor was on his feet so abruptly as to set the tea-things shaking.
"No! No, I wasn't—I swear! I must go at once," said Charles.
Unaware of the painful memories her womanly words evoked, Miss Grace naturally looked very much surprised.
"But—what's the matter? Why, you act as if it were something improper for you to look at my ring!"
"Absurd," said the tutor, with a gesture.
He had merely remembered, all of a sudden, something very important he had to do, that was all. Pardon his haste, but he had already stayed too long, he feared.
Indifferent to Miss Grace's bewilderment, he left at once, wondering if voluntary celibacy could not exist, and be respected, upon this earth. And next day, as he stood on the corner of Center Street awaiting his good, safe street-car—indeed, as he was in the very act of boarding the said safe car—the little Fordette chugged up behind and nipped him.