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Rufus P. Urmy, with her finger marking a paragraph. Mrs. Urmy glanced at it. "I guess it ought to corral him right away," she said, with the merest suspicion of embarrassment. "You see, it's Jeannette's last chance. Two seasons in England and never a catch, so I " "You did it?" Lady Hartley looked at her friend in round-eyed wonder. "I I had to do something," allowed Mrs.
"Don't don't you think we had better take the consequences?" said Chilminster, as he reached across the table and let his hand fall on hers. Mrs. Urmy stood at the window looking with lack-lustre eyes across the park.
"And you are Miss Jeannette L. Urmy, of Boston, Massachusetts, I believe." There was quite a long silence. "You knew all along," she flushed angrily. Chilminster raised a hand in protest. "Not until you told me." "Then why didn't you stop? You ought to have taken me back immediately you knew who I was." "So I would have if " "You mean you didn't believe me. You thought I was a lady's maid!"
She says that a steady diet of such literary fare would give her blue indigestion. Also she objects on the ground that no one got married that is, the heroine didn't. And she says that a heroine who does not get married isn't a heroine at all. She thinks she prefers the pink-cheeked, goddess kind, in the end. By CLARENCE URMY
How express in words her view of an intolerable situation which no self-respecting girl could even calmly think about? Lord Chilminster's mind was almost similarly engaged. He was wondering who Miss Jeannette L. Urmy could be, and whether she was aware of the obnoxious paragraph in the paper.
She had reached the fatal announcement, and sat with parted lips, rigid as stone, while the world seemed toppling about her ears. There was a long pause. Jeannette's lips gradually tightened, and her firm hand crumpled up the paper. "Mommer!" she exclaimed. "Here, Mommer!" But Mrs. Urmy and Lady Hartley had beaten a diplomatic retreat.
"How would this do: 'Miss Urmy and Lord Chilminster wish to contradict their engagement " "But that implies that there was an engagement!" Chilminster pondered the deduction. "So it does. I see. People would jump to the conclusion that we were in a desperate hurry to alter our minds!" "And, of course, we haven't." "Y-es.
"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.
"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."
He had heard Lady Hartley mention the name of Urmy as that of a friend of hers, and naturally decided that she was the proper person to consult. But before he had time to get out of his car and ring the bell here was a young person, springing from goodness knows where, mistaking him for a motor-man, and ordering him about. For a moment he was speechless.
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