Her host glanced at her quizzically. She certainly did not look as if she had many grounds for complaint, as she stood with her hands behind her back and mirth in her pretty eyes, a gracefully poised, perfectly healthy, happy specimen of young womanhood. "Oh, Miss Mayne, but you must!" cried her charges in unison. "You can never have too much of a good thing, you know," endorsed the host. Without quite knowing why, he was aware that his heart was beating a shade fast. He wanted her to put the ring on. He had an absurd inexplicable desire to put it on her finger himself. "Just put it on the tip," pleaded Jane. "Please." Miss Mayne was now blushing unaffectedly, and furious with herself. "Why not?" asked Graeme with masculine obtuseness. "You needn't put it right on," said Georgina soothingly. Abruptly Miss Mayne yielded. The affair threatened to develop into a scene; she felt self-conscious and embarrassed. "Very well," she consented, and held out her hand to Jane. "Put it on the tip, it's too small for me to wear." Jane complied, but Cornelius James intervened and pounced on her extended finger. "No, no," he cried, "properly! You must have all the luck!" and thrust the gold circle over her knuckle. Miss Mayne tugged at it unavailingly. The blush had gone and a look of annoyance creased her brows. "It won't come off," she murmured. "Never mind," said Graeme; "don't worry. We'll have tea, and then Mrs. Mackworth shall bring you some soap and warm water. Tea's ready now." "I'd rather----" began the girl, and stopped. She had made enough fuss over the wretched thing, she decided. "Very well," she said reluctantly, and they descended to the dining-room, and the Gargantuan repast Graeme had prepared. As the meal progressed, the friendly relations Graeme had established with the children increased to something approaching intimacy. Miss Mayne's annoyance disappeared and her whimsy of a smile returned. The incident of the ring was forgotten, and no one mentioned it. Only she remained somehow conscious of it as she sat with her hand unobtrusively concealed from view upon her lap. Tea was nearing its conclusion when the butler entered and approached Graeme's chair. "The two Miss Smedleys, sir, have called. I said her Ladyship was away, but they said, if they might, they'd like to see you for a minute." "See _me_!" groaned the victim. "Oh, who wouldn't sell his little farm and go to sea? Why do they want to see me?" "Couldn't say, sir," said the butler, with faint disapproval in his tone. Graeme gazed at him with undisguised panic in his face. "Look here, Hobbes," he said, "I'm not going to face those man-eaters alone. You can show 'em in here. I suppose they'll have to have tea." Then to the children, who sat wide-eyed and silent during this confab, he appealed. "You'll all help me, won't you?"