"You made me forget about lunch," he said cheerfully. "Of course I must! You know, you're a terror, Alwynne. I never know which makes me hungrier, a football match or an argument with you. I'm ravenous." Alwynne was speechless. "Is no one coming in to lunch?" asked Elsbeth, entering. She looked quickly from one to the other. Alwynne was at the glass, tidying her hair, and Roger seemed cheerful. Elsbeth smiled a significant smile: her eyebrows were question-marks. Roger shook his head, but not before Elsbeth had caught sight of the scattered rose and disarranged vases. She was instantly engaged in restoring order, and missed the movement. Suddenly she exclaimed, and pounced on a small object lying on the floor, half hidden in petals. "Oh! Oh, how lovely! What an exquisite ring! Why, Roger--why, Alwynne--look! I might have trodden on it. How careless of you both." But she beamed on them with immense satisfaction, as she held out the emerald ring. "It's not mine," said Alwynne icily. "Nothing to do with me," Roger assured her. Elsbeth looked bewildered. "One of you must have dropped it," she began. "No!" said Alwynne. "Oh, no!" said Roger. But there was a glimmer of fun in his eye, that enlightened Elsbeth, or she thought, at least, that it did. "In my young days," she remarked severely, "young people didn't leave a valuable engagement ring lying about on the floor." "A disengaged engagement ring," he corrected her sadly. "At least, it's disengaged at present." "I think, Elsbeth," said Alwynne firmly, "that the lunch must be getting cold." And preceded them in all dignity to the dining-room.