"No, thank you," and Dexie turned away. "You have half-a-dozen rings of your own, and you know your own motto is 'What's mine is mine,' so I'll neither borrow nor lend," laughing good-naturedly.
"Keep your old ring, you stingy thing!" Then, fearing that Traverse might have heard her, she said sweetly:
"Have you noticed Dexie's new ring, Mr. Traverse? It is a mystery to me where she gets them, for I am sure she would never buy them herself. Perhaps Hugh McNeil sent it, eh, Dexie? It looks just like one he would send," and she regarded her sister closely.
Dexie colored painfully at this interrogation, and Guy, who was amused at Gussie's inquisitiveness, said in feigned surprise:
"Are you really guilty of wearing a new ring, Dexie?" the corners of his mouth twitching suspiciously. "I hope you are as happy in possessing it as the donor was in bestowing it."
"Thank you, Mr. Traverse, I think I can truthfully say that I am."
"Oh, Dexie! was it really given to you by a gentleman? Was it Lancy Gurney who sent it?"
"Hardly, Gussie, or some other young lady would have a right to complain," smiling at Gussie's look of surprise.
"Then it was Hugh McNeil, as I thought. I always said you would repent your behavior to him. Then I suppose the affair is settled. Where is Hugh, Dexie?"
Dexie did not answer at once, but clasped her hands, palms downward, in that convulsive grasp that always told of some mental struggle. Something of the old terror filled her heart at the very mention of Hugh's name, and her answer was evidently uttered with much reluctance, not unmixed with fear: