“About the same, I believe,” shortly. “Tell me, how did you come to give up your secretary work there?”
“You ask me that?” A sparkle of anger darkened Marjorie’s eyes, and he glanced uncomfortably at the mantel clock. “You are better informed as to what transpires in the Lawrence home than I am.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he complained. “Admiral Lawrence has a grudge against me, witness his advising my aunt to cut me out of her will; and now I believe he has influenced you to turn against me. Madge, it’s not like you to go back on a pal,” he added bitterly.
“I am not the one who has ‘gone back,’” she retorted with spirit. “And I think it’s best, all things considered, to return you this”—taking a heavy gold signet ring out of a fold of her bodice and placing it in his hand.
He looked at it in stupefied silence for a moment, then threw it contemptuously on the large library table.
“Do you think by returning that ring that you can break the tie that binds me to you, my darling?” he cried, real feeling in voice and gesture. “That bit of gold is but a symbol of my love—as long as life lasts, my heart, my homage, are yours.” Her pulse quickened under the ardor in his eyes. “God! why am I poor!” He struck one fist impotently in his other palm. “Cannot you understand, my darling, that it hurts me cruelly to see you living here as a paid chaperon when you should reign as queen.”
“Miss Langdon,” called Janet from the doorway. “Our guests are waiting to say good-bye.”
Marjorie, dragged once more to earth, started guiltily for the door, without a glance at her companion. A chaperon had small right to sit in corners with attractive men.
After the last guest had departed Marjorie, leaving Janet and her father and brother discussing the events of the evening, slipped back into the library. But her search of the table and other pieces of furniture was fruitless.
“In spite of his protests, he pocketed the ring,” she muttered, and a queer smile crossed her lips.