"Not quite so pretty, perhaps: more beautiful."
"Ah, well—I would not go there too much, Frank; illness, or no illness," cried Edina.
She spoke in a dreamy tone, as if her reflections were back in the past. In her heart she believed he must have cared more or less for Rosaline. Frank laughed slightly in answer: a laugh that was somewhat constrained. His thoughts also had gone back; back to that fatal night at Trennach.
A sudden shout in Alfred's voice from the group in the garden. "Here it is! here it is, mamma!" Mrs. Raynor's thin gold ring had slipped off her slender finger, and they had been searching for it in the twilight.
Daisy seemed to see and hear no more until some of them came running into the bedroom, saying that Frank was waiting for her. She went out, said good-night in a mechanical sort of manner, and they started homewards, arm-in-arm. The old jealousy she had once felt of Rosaline Bell had sprung up again with tenfold force.
A short distance from the cottage, they met Charles. He was walking along at full speed, and greeted them in a storm of anger.
"It was an awful shame! Just because I wanted to get home an hour earlier than usual, it is an hour later. The office is full of work, and some of us had to stay behind and do it."
"Never mind, Charley," said Frank, with his genial smile. "Better luck next time."
"Yes, it's all very well to say next time; that will be next year, I suppose. You hardly ever come to see us, you know, Frank."
"I come when I can. You must come to us instead. Spend next Sunday with us, Charley. I can't stay talking now."