He took her little white hand in his as he spoke--it was her left one--and regarded it admiringly; and Alison, though trembling for what might now ensue, did not withdraw it. She thought, was not the man quite old enough to be her father? 'I believe greatly in pretty hands,' said he, caressing and patting with his right hand the little white one that lay in his left. 'So does papa. It is a hobby of his that they indicate race or culture,' replied Alison, smiling now. Certainly the short, thick digits of Lord Cadbury showed neither, and, poor man, he thought so, for he winced at the girl's reply, it was so like one of Sir Ranald's remarks; and the gentle Alison blushed that she had made it. To do so was altogether unlike herself, but she was irritated by the whole situation. 'That is a charming ring!' said her host, touching Bevil Goring's gift--the gift she prized beyond her own life. She drew her hand away now. 'I have in that casket a diamond hoop with opals alternately--one of remarkable size and value--and if you would permit me to offer it----' 'Oh, no, never--thanks!' she exclaimed, growing quite pale. 'Why?' he asked, with annoyance and surprise. 'Opals are unlucky.' 'Unlucky? This is some Scotch superstition, I suppose?' 'It is Oriental, I believe. Moreover, I have no wish for more rings, and never accept gifts of that kind,' she added, with some hauteur of manner. 'I think I startled you by my entrance,' said he, trying to recapture her hand again; but she kept them both resolutely folded before her. 'I was in a reverie, certainly.' 'And, posed as you were, made a most fairy-like picture,' said he, with his head on one side, his long white moustache almost touching her, and more decided tenderness in his tone than he had ever before adopted. 'A fairy--would I were one!' said Alison, a little impatiently, with a flash in her dark blue eyes, for she was in great dread of what might follow now. 'And what would you do if you were one in reality?' said he, passing a hand caressingly round her soft arm. 'Do? As Robin Goodfellow, "the knavish sprite," did.' 'How?' 'By one wave of my wand I should punish you for disturbing me.' 'In what way?' He had interlaced his pudgy fingers on her arm now. 'By garnishing you, as he did, with Bottom's ears,' she replied, with something between a laugh and an angry sigh, 'though I should decline to take the part of either Titania or Peasblossom.' Cadbury released her arm and drew back; he knew not precisely what she meant, but tugged his white moustache and thought-- 'What the deuce does she mean by Bottom's ears?' It sounded like a rebuff, anyway, and as such he accepted it--or rather resented it. 'Do compliments displease you?' said he, becoming insinuating again; 'they are but a form of kindness.' 'I take them from you as I would from papa; they pass thus, although a younger man might offend.'