United States or Puerto Rico ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
I picked him out in my sample book of the aristocracy, and when I fitted the name on to Jeannette the Countess of Chilminster it sounded quite elegant." "Then it wasn't because you knew I knew him?" demanded Mrs. Urmy's hostess with growing amazement. Mrs. Urmy's face took on a blank expression. "You've heard me mention the name. That's how it's pronounced," explained Lady Hartley.
"You had better go round to the stables and ask for something to eat. I may be some time," was all she volunteered as she rang the bell. Rather staggered by the order, but foreseeing a bad quarter of an hour ahead of him, Chilminster was glad of the respite. He opened the throttle and slid out of sight as Jeannette was admitted. His lordship was out, the butler informed her.
"Ah, the Morning Post!" echoed Chilminster, also changing front. "There was a disgraceful announcement." "Half of it certainly was irksome." "Which half?" asked Jeannette suspiciously. "I have no conscientious scruples about matrimony in the abstract," parried Chilminster. "But I have. I object altogether to the paragraph. I resent it." "Then you did not insert it?" "I insert it?
"I own up I don't see just how, but there wasn't much time, and it was the best I could do." Lady Hartley slowly reread the incriminating paragraph: "A marriage has been arranged, and will shortly take place between the Earl of Chilminster, of Sapworth Hall, Wilts, and Miss Jeannette L. Urmy, of Boston, Massachusetts."
"It's the Morning Post?" Jeannette evaded his eye. "Yes; it does put us in rather a tight place," mediated Chilminster. Nothing was said for a moment. "Engaged!" he murmured. Jeannette raised her eyes and noted his reflective attitude. "Who can have put it in?" he went on. "I can't imagine." "And why?" "It does seem strange," admitted Jeannette in a detached tone. "It's not as if we were "
"There's nothing for it but to write to the paper, I suppose?" he said ruefully. "I I suppose not." The comment was dragged from Jeannette in a tone as unconsciously reluctant as his was rueful. Chilminster sighed. "It's so rough on you." Jeannette felt a consuming anxiety to know whether his sympathy was occasioned by the announcement or the suggested denial of it.
"Wouldn't a telegram do?" "By Jove! Yes; and simply say: 'Miss Urmy wishes to deny " "In my name!" exclaimed Jeannette. "Well you are the person aggrieved." "I really don't think it's fair to put the whole of the responsibility on my shoulders," she demurred. "No, I suppose not," Chilminster admitted grudgingly.
Bareheaded, gaiterless, minus his driving coat, very self-contained and eminently aristocratic, the supposed motor-man advanced into the room. "You see, you told me to take the car round to the stables," he proceeded, with a touch of apology in his tone. "You you are the Earl of Chilminster?" she gasped. "Of Sapworth Hall, Wilts," he augmented, like one who quotes.
She leaned forward to make herself heard. "Set a killing pace," she called. "I'll make it up to you." Chilminster nodded, hid a smile, and let the car out to the top of its speed.
She had come to accuse, and, instead, found herself patiently listening to a recital of her indiscretions. But if Lord Chilminster was a strategist, Jeannette was a tactician. She appreciated the danger of a passive defense, and conversely, of the value of a vigorous aggression. Without a moment's hesitation she began a counter attack. "In to-day's Morning Post " she commenced.
Word Of The Day