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Updated: June 15, 2025
"I'm too if you will allow me to clothe my thought in somewhat homely language too beastly poor." "You poor?" ejaculated Lady Blanchemain, falling back. "Ay but honest," asseverated John, to calm her fears. She couldn't help smiling, though she resolutely frowned. "Be serious," she enjoined him. "Doesn't your uncle make you a suitable allowance?"
Her fan was of amber tortoise-shell, with white ostrich feathers, and the end sticks bore her cypher and coronet in gold. "What a jolly fan," said John. "Well, well," said Lady Blanchemain, reconciling herself. Then, after an instant of pensiveness, "So you're already laid low by her beauty. But you haven't found out yet who she is?" "Who who is?" said John, looking all at sea. "Tut. Don't tease.
"To know whether she is born," said Lady Blanchemain. "Among Austrians, unless you're born, you're impossible, you're nowhere. Brandi doesn't sound born, does it? We mustn't let you become enamoured of her if she isn't born." "Brandi sounds tremendously unborn," assented John. "And if like visits like, Signora Brandi's visitor will probably be unborn too.
The widow of the late Lord Blanchemain inwardly gasped, but she was quick to suppress all outward symptoms of that circumstance. The daughter of Eve in her gasped, but the practised old Englishwoman of the world affably and imperturbably pronounced, with a gracious movement of the head, "Ah, indeed? You are then, of course, a relation of the Prince?"
The sceptic gave a shrug, as one who disclaimed responsibility and declined discussion. "Me, I do not think so. But patience! I will go and ask," he said; and, turning his back, faded from sight in the depths of the dark tunnel-like porte-cochère. Vexed, perplexed, Lady Blanchemain fidgeted a little.
I've given her two and two; she has, you may be sure, enough skill in mathematics to put 'em together." "And she never turned a hair?" the lady marvelled. "She jeered at me, she mocked me, she laughed and rode away," said he. "She's probably in love with you," said Lady Blanchemain. "If a woman will listen, if a woman will laugh!
"The son of his brother Philip," said the young man. Lady Blanchemain sat up straight again. "But then," she cried, forgetting to conceal her perturbation, "then you're the heir. Philip Blanchemain had but one son, and was the General's immediate junior. You're John Blanchemain John Francis Joseph Mary. You're the heir." The young man smiled at her eagerness, perhaps.
"He's the nephew and heir of Lord Blanchemain of Ventmere," her instructress went on. "That is one of our most ancient peerages." "Really?" said Maria Dolores. "And I'm glad to be able to add that I'm his sort of connection I'm the widow of the late Lord Blanchemain."
But though the air was chilly, it was wonderfully, keenly fragrant with the incense of the pines. "Well," she asked, when they were facing homewards, "and your woman? What of her?" "Nothing," said John. "Or, anyhow, very little." "But your private detective?" said Lady Blanchemain. "Weren't her investigations fruitful?" "Not very," said he. "She learnt little beyond her name and age."
"Her face is exquisite so sensitive, so spiritual; so distinguished, so aristocratic. And so clever," she added, after a suspension. "Mm!" said John, his forehead wrinkled, as if something were puzzling him. "She has a figure she holds herself well," said Lady Blanchemain. "Mm!" said John. "I suppose," said she, "you're too much a mere man to be able to appreciate her frock?
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