“Yes, I know I am,” said Carroll, calmly.
The two men returned to the house and sat on the porch with the ladies. About half-past ten Anna Carroll said good-night, then Mrs. Carroll. Then Charlotte rose, and Ina also followed her up-stairs.
“Ina,” cried Charlotte, in a sort of angry embarrassment, when they had reached her chamber, “you've got to go back; indeed you have.”
“I suppose I ought.” Ina was blushing furiously, her lip quivered. She was twisting a ring on her engagement-finger.
“You have even kept the stone side in, so nobody could see that beautiful ring he brought you. You are mean—mean!” said Charlotte.
“You just imagine that,” said Ina, feebly. As she spoke she held up her hand, and a great diamond flashed rose and green and white.
“No, I don't imagine it. I have not seen it once like that. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You must go straight back down-stairs. People when they are engaged always sit up alone together. You are not doing right coming up here with me.”
“What are you scolding me for? Who said I was not going back?” returned Ina, with resentful shame.
“You know you were not.”
“I was.”