“Not to-day, Dexie.  I think I am too full of your little romance to invent anything new.  Finish up those old things and let me see how you get on.  Give the smallest chap the biggest fish; he told the biggest lies, and will claim it anyway.  Let the girl jump the fence.  If she can’t do that, let her crawl under it, or let the bull toss her over; no matter how she gets out of the field, so long as she gets out alive.  She will never want to paint again, I feel sure; so let her escape with her life.”

Dexie laughed and began to write, knowing she would get her father interested, and she soon found she had to move her fingers very nimbly in order to keep up with the flow of words that fell from his lips.  Page after page fluttered to the floor till Dexie cried, “There, papa, that is enough for to-day.  The house party are happily paired off and are on the way to the supper table; let us hope they will find enough to eat upon it, while we go and see about our own supper.”

In the evening, much to Gussie’s surprise, Mr. Traverse made his appearance, and her smiles and good-humor rose to the surface at once; this was the more remarkable by reason of their non-appearance throughout the day.

Dexie answered his ring at the door, and if they remained in the hall just a little longer than usual, no one seemed to remark it; and if the blushes which mantled her cheeks were observed, no one guessed the cause.

During the evening Gussie noticed for the first time that Dexie wore a new ring, and the volley of questions she poured forth regarding it was quite astonishing.

“Why, where did you get it, Dexie?  It is just a beauty; mine look quite common beside it!  That is the second new ring you have worn lately, Dexie, but I hope there is not so much mystery about this one as there was about the other.  Lend me your ring for this evening, will you, Dexie?” she added, coming over to her sister’s side.

“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?”