Read Online Choose the One You'll Marry by Mary Burchell - Free Book Online Page B

she—she seems very comfortably provided for now.”
    “Yes,” he agreed, without obvious signs of curiosity.
    “How did the—change in her circumstances come about, then? Did she have some sort of—business success herself?”
    “I don’t really know. There was a long gap when we heard no news of her. For the last twelve years or so of my mother’s lifetime I don’t think we had a letter. Then, about a year ago, she wrote to my old home address, and the letter was forwarded to me. I had to write and explain that my mother had died less than a year ago. And presently Aunt Henrietta decided to come home. She wanted to see me. And she wanted to see your mother—and her family.”
    “Yes. She—seemed to retain a strong affection for the people she hadn’t seen for so long.”
    “I suppose one does when one hasn’t many people to care about,” he said. And somehow, after that, Ruth found it difficult to continue the catechism about Aunt Henrietta, even though she had managed to disguise it as no more than friendly interest.
    It was a pleasant, uneventful journey for the rest of the way. Aunt Henrietta slept for quite a while longer and woke up obviously refreshed. If she retained any uncomfortable recollection of Mrs. Tadcaster’s last questions, she showed no signs of this, and she was very gay and good company during lunch, which they had at a famous coaching inn, where “atmosphere” was not made an excuse for bad food.
    By the time they reached London, it was the middle of the afternoon, and they drove straight to the house agents. To Ruth, everything was novel and interesting, and the occasional glimpses of well-known places drew exclamations of pleasure from her, which obviously both amused and pleased her companions.
    With the keys in their posses s ion, they then drove to Blessington Crescent, where the apartment proved to be a much more elegant and luxurious place than Ruth had ever expected. It was situated on the first floor of what once must have been a Regency mansion, and the rooms were large and most beautifully proportioned.
    From the back, where Ruth’s room was situated, there was a delightful view across the park. And as she stood watching the late-afternoon sunlight flickering on grass and trees, she felt enchanted with her whole situation, and wondered how she could ever have allowed idle suspicions to cast a cloud on her enjoyment of this wonderful visit.
    The fact that the meeting with Angus was now only a matter of hours away contributed somewhat to this state of mind. And in addition there was the discovery—satisfactory to all three of them—that with the apartment went the services of the nearest thing to an old retainer that one was likely to find in the middle twentieth century.
    A rather prim, gray-haired, immensely efficient factotum, answering to the name of Martin, had awaited them on arrival.
    “No, madam,” she had said, in answer to Aunt Henrietta’s inquiries. “I don’t sleep in. I live about five minutes’ wal k away.” Her air suggested that she hardly slept at all in the service of her employers. “ I got in all the basic supplies, madam. And tomorrow perhaps you’ll let me know anything special you would like me to get. Unless you prefer to do the shopping yourself.”
    Aunt Henrietta said hastily that she was sure Martin could do this much better than she could. A view to which Martin obviously subscribed, while being much too polite to say so.
    “Life’s going to be wonderfully easy with that treasure around,” Aunt Henrietta confided to Ruth, before she went to her room. And with those words, an added sense of satisfaction and well-being seemed to pervade the place.
    Angus telephoned half an hour later, to ask when he might make his appearance. And after consultation with Aunt Henrietta, Ruth suggested that he should come to the apartment just before seven.
    “Aunt Henrietta says we can have a drink here and then go out somewhere to dinner,” Ruth