"I was wondering if you had it always with you."

"Always."

"Does your man transfer it from one suit to another?"

He had not expected just that question, but he repeated himself.

"Always," he said a bit stiffly, and added: "Do you want it?"

"Her ring?" she cried with an arrogant little laugh. "No, indeed."

He looked at her and then at the ring in her fingers. It was a rather remarkable pearl, surrounded by faintly bluish diamonds.

"Pearls mean tears," she said.

"Then throw it away!" he commanded irritably. "I don't want it, either."

He saw her, without another word, toss it off into the forest mold. In spite of his command he had not expected that. It gave him a start.

"Perhaps the stones were not real," she said lightly. "Were they?"

"Yes," was all that he could answer.

"What an effective bit that would make on the stage," she suggested. "A man bidding a woman throw away a rope of pearls if she would not accept them as a gift from him, and she taking him at his word and pitching them into the sea."

"You are a strange creature," he commented. "Fancy chucking off a ring in that manner!" It was very plain to be seen that he was annoyed.

"I know," she said seriously. "And I'd chuck myself away just as gaily if it were possible to do it completely. I was on the verge of doing it once in India. I thought anything would be better than the things that were."

"Why didn't you, then?"

"I couldn't. I was prevented. My whole life was changed again at that very instant."

"And what happened?"

"The man I was going to chuck myself away on cut his throat."

Carleigh gasped. "Killed himself?"

"Not quite," Nina answered coolly. "He was prevented, too. But he carries the scar. Every time he shaves he must think of me."

"My dear girl," he remonstrated. He was still thinking of the ring. It was of such value that he began to question whether she was quite in her right mind. "You do let one in for thrilling experiences. That I must say."

"Now as then," she admitted, stopping short. "I've been very horrid,"

turning her head until her eyes looked directly into his. "I'm not just myself to-day. I don't know why I threw your pearl away. Come back with me and I'll pick it up."

"Can you find it, do you think?" he asked, palpably pleased.

"Of course. I threw it on the bare roots. I meant to pick it up on our way back."

He was smiling now, as transparent as any schoolboy. "You are most awfully odd, you know," he said, vastly solaced. "But if we pick it up, you must let me put it on."

"No, no."

"Yes, yes."

"Well, if you insist. But it will mean nothing."

When they reached the spot both looked searchingly about. Carleigh went down on his knees and soiled his sensitive hands delving among the bare roots. Nina tossed aside bits of mold with the toe of her boot. But the ring was not found.

"Never mind; it's been a thrilling experience. You said so yourself,"

she remarked lightly. "And it isn't every day that a man gets a really new sensation, you know. And that was utterly new to you, I'm sure."

But Carleigh was far from accepting it with the same indifference. He made an effort to appear nonchalant, but throughout the rest of their walk he again and again relapsed into silence. The loss of the ring would not be kept down.

When finally they returned to Bellingdown it was to find the house full of smoke. The party lunched in the murk, choking between bites.

"That chimney always draws badly," her ladyship informed everyone with the utmost calm.

Then all the doors were opened, and they had coffee in the billiard-room.

Carleigh ate no luncheon and drank no coffee.

"They've had trouble," whispered Lady Grey to Kneedrock significantly, as they stood together by one of the billiard-room windows. "See!" she added, pointing. "He's been walking alone. I do wonder if he really did offer himself and if she really did refuse him."

Carleigh came in a few moments later, and he was evidently depressed.

"I'm perfectly sure she refused him," Lady Grey decided. But Kneedrock only shrugged his broad, burly shoulders.

Carleigh had been to search more carefully for the ring. But he had not succeeded. And now it came to him gloomily that should he ever renew his engagement with Rosamond Veynol--of course he had no intention of doing so; but if he ever should--he would have to invent some lie and tell it her.

Still, losing the ring--and losing it under such very unpleasant conditions--was the first circ.u.mstance that had ever presented the possibility of a renewal to him in a concrete form.

After he had gone up to his room Nina rose from the deep seat where she had been buried in the current _Revue des Deux Mondes_, and crossed to where Nibbetts--Charlotte Grey having left him--now stood alone by the window, staring out over the desolate garden.

"I want to speak to you, Hal," she said earnestly, and turning, saw that the others--all in a waiting mood, as they were about to go--were cl.u.s.tered before the fire. "I want to speak to you, seriously," she emphasized, and laid a hand on his arm.

"It's no use, Nina," he returned roughly, shaking off the plaintive hand. "I am the one man you can't cajole. Don't touch me."

But she still stood there, her eyes downcast. "I want to be good, Hal,"

she declared, her tone all contrition. "You know how hard I try. I'm trying uncommonly hard this time; but he's so tempting.

"Please do me a favor. I'm not asking much. I'm not really. Chain him up, won't you? Don't--oh, don't let him follow me. No good can come of it. He'll never go back to them if I spoil him any more. Interfere. You can if you will. Do--please, do!"

A look of utter disgust spread over the man's face.

"You make me so devilish angry," he growled below his breath. "One expects this kind of thing from men. But not from women."