' And so far as attention goes, you'll get it as
long as you live, you little princess. Besides, isn't it
better to wear the love of one man than the admiration
of half a dozen?"
"And be teased and worried half out of your life by
everybody you meet? Now, Lorne, you're getting serious
and sentimental, and you know I hate that. It isn't any
good either--Mother always used to say it made me more
stubborn to appeal to me. Horrid nature to have, isn't
it?"
Lorne's hand went to his waistcoat pocket and came back
with a tiny packet. "It's come, Dora--by this morning's
English mail."
Her eyes sparkled, and then rested with guarded excitement
upon the little case. "Oh, Lorne!"
She said nothing more, but watched intently while he
found the spring, and disclosed the ring within. Then
she drew a long breath. "Lorne Murchison, what a lovely
one!"
"Doesn't it look," said he, "just a little serious and
sentimental?"
"But SUCH good style, too," he declared, bending over
it. "And quite new--I haven't seen anything a bit like
it. I do love a design when it's graceful. Solitaires
are so old-fashioned."
He kept his eyes upon her face, feeding upon the delight
in it. Exultation rose up in him: he knew the primitive
guile of man, indifferent to such things, alluring with
them the other creature.
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