He held it loosely.  Her making this slight overture was enough to restore his sense of superiority; his resolve grew less unsteady.  “It’s the first time,” he went on, “that we’ve really had the chance to judge how we actually feel toward each other—­that’s what’s the matter.”  His face—­he was not looking at her—­took on an expression of sad reproach.  “Del, I don’t believe you—­care.  You’ve found it out, and don’t want to hurt my feelings by telling me.”  And he believed what he was saying.  It might have been—­well, not quite right, for him to chill toward her and contemplate breaking the engagement, but that she should have been doing the same thing—­his vanity was erect to the last feather.  “It’s most kind of you to think so considerately of me,” he said satirically.

She took her hand away.  “And you?” she replied coldly.  “Are your feelings changed?”

“I—­oh, you know I love you,” was his answer in a deliberately careless tone.

She laughed with an attempt at raillery.  “You’ve been too long up at Windrift—­you’ve been seeing too much of Theresa Howland,” said she, merely for something to say; for Theresa was neither clever nor pretty, and Del hadn’t it in her to suspect him of being mercenary.

He looked coldly at her.  “I have never interfered with your many attentions from other men,” said he stiffly.  “On the contrary, I have encouraged you to enjoy yourself, and I thought you left me free in the same way.”

The tears came to her eyes; and he saw, and proceeded to value still less highly that which was obviously so securely his.

“Whatever is the matter with you, Ross, this morning?” she cried.  “Or is it I?  Am I—­”

“It certainly is not I,” he interrupted icily.  “I see you again after six months, and I find you changed completely.”

A glance from her stopped him.  “Oh!” she exclaimed, with a dangerous smile.  “You are out of humor this morning and are seeking a quarrel.”

“That would be impossible,” he retorted. “I never quarrel.  Evidently you have forgotten all about me.”

Her pride would not let her refuse the challenge, convert in his words, frank in his eyes.

“Possibly,” mocked she, forcing herself to look amusedly at him.  “I don’t bother much about people I don’t see.”

“You take a light view of our engagement,” was his instant move.

“I should take a still lighter view,” retorted she, “if I thought the way you’re acting was a fair specimen of your real self.”

This from Adelaide, who had always theretofore shared in his almost reverent respect for himself.  Adelaide judging him, criticising him!  All Ross’s male instinct for unquestioning approval from the female was astir.  “You wish to break our engagement?” he inquired, with a glance of cold anger that stiffened her pride and suppressed her impulse to try to gain time.