His suavity was so great, his determination not to be ruffled so evident, that Mrs. North felt partly foiled. It was not often she attacked Arthur; he always met it in this way, and no satisfaction came of it. She could have struck him as he stood.
"What is the true tale about the ring, Arthur?" asked Matilda, in the silence come to by Mrs. North. "Lake says Oliver Rane really lost it."
"Really and truly, Matty."
"Were they married without a ring?"
"Some one present produced one," he replied carelessly, in his invincible dislike to mention Ellen Adair before his mother and sister: a dislike that had ever clung to him. Did it arise from the reticence that invariably attends love, this feeling?--or could it have been some foreshadowing, some dread instinct of what the future was to bring forth?
"How came Dr. Rane to lose the ring?"
"Carelessness, I suppose. We found it in the carriage, going home. He must have dropped it accidentally."
"Peace, Matilda! Keep your foolish questions for a fitting time," stormed madam. "How dare you turn your back upon me, Arthur? What money has gone out with the girl?"
Arthur turned to answer. In spite of his careless manner, he was biting his lips with shame and vexation. It was so often he had to blush for his mother.
"I'm sure I don't know, if you mean with Bessy; it is not my business that I should presume to ask. Here comes Dick: I thought it was his step. You can inquire of him, madam."