stayed her work to turn her hand and look at the ring with a
scrutinising glance. "Yes; it's a good stone. I like it too. It was
my mother's," she said calmly. There was no consciousness in her face
of the beauty of the hand itself. The thoughtful look was the result of
a puzzling question. As Peignton's admiration for emeralds was so
great, why had he not given one to his _fiancee_ instead of the orthodox
row of diamonds? As though one personal remark called forth another,
she turned suddenly to him and asked, "How did you fall yesterday?
Everyone told a different tale. Were you really climbing over the
rockery?"

"I was. I'm afraid I did some damage to the bulbs as well as myself,
but you had told me that the saxifrages were partial to boots. I
thought I was perfectly safe. I _was_, until by bad luck I stepped on
to one of those big--er--"

"Clinkers?"

"Clinkers--yes! that's it, and it rolled over and brought me with it,
with my foot twisted beneath me."

"It had probably been put in this year. The old, moss-covered stones
are safe enough. I'm sorry if I misled you. What did you want to do?"

To her surprise the colour rose in his cheeks. He took up the tangled
silks and smoothed them out with elaborate precaution.

"I wanted a sprig of that sweet stuff for my coat. The sweet stuff you
wore the afternoon we ran away."

There was a tone in his voice which quickened the beat of Cassandra's
heart, but she shrugged her shoulders with an affectation of
resignation.

"You are determined to put the blame on me! By your own account I seem
to have lured you on by both precept and example. What would men do
without the poor women to carry the blame? Bernard is never really
consoled about any mishap until he has traced its origin back to me.
It's difficult sometimes when it's some matter connected with the land,
about which I know nothing, but he had a bright inspiration about that
one day, and declared that things had gone wrong because I _didn't_
interest myself! If I _had_ taken an interest, the deal would have been
a success! I used to defend myself at one time. Now I don't. I know
that one of the ways I can help him is by letting him work off his
irritation by blaming someone else. In his heart he knows perfectly
well that he is talking nonsense. At least, I suppose he does! _I_
always know when I'm deceiving myself."

The blood rushed to her face as she finished speaking, for an inner