rule when Owen brought a wife home. All the same—
Well, on this visit she was determined to bring matters to a head. Casually she had asked Owen who the other guests would be and had heard with considerable satisfaction that she need fear no competition from the other women. Celia Littleton was quite clever in her way, of course, and so was Lisa Freyne. But Celia was too young and Lisa too careless of her appearance to make any appeal to Owen. Then, just as Lucy had done, she realised that there must be another woman to make up the number and had asked Owen who she was.
“Oh, Lucy,” he had said carelessly, and had gone on to explain just who Lucy was.
No danger there, Marion had thought complacently. Tall, thin and fair—no, even though Owen saw her every day, perhaps because he saw her every day, there was nothing to fear in that quarter—an opinion which she felt had been confirmed when she saw Lucy.
The men, on the other hand, might be very useful. Not Lord Manderville, of course. He was as old as the hills and he always gave her the feeling that he was looking right through her and out the other side. But the others—Jeremy Trent and Sinclair Forbes—yes, they were all right. Not that she had any intention of flirting with them or letting them flirt with her. Owen would only be disgusted by that. But that little gasp which the two men and young Robin had given when she had made her entry—how flattered they would be had they known it was for their benefit!— had told her all she needed to know. Without any relaxation from the part of a charming but regally aloof woman that she intended to play, Owen would see with his own eyes how desirable other men found her! And since he was anything but a fool, he would see to it that none of them got ahead of him!
Marion drew a deep breath of satisfaction. She was on the brink of a second and in a way greater success than her professional one had been!
Lucy found that Mrs. Mayberry had been quite right. It would be impossible to find two more pleasant or friendly people than Lord Manderville and Robin Littleton, for neighbours at dinner, though in totally different ways.
Robin, like his twin, was bubbling over with high spirits. He thought the world was a wonderful place and that all the people who occupied it were good sorts—especially Owen.
“He’s absolutely terrific,” he confided to Lucy. “He’s always got an ear to the ground, you know, in search of new talent, not because he wants to make out of them, but in case there’s anyone that needs a hand to make the grade. Well, Celia and I were both in our last year at the Academy and he heard us playing at one of the pupils’ concerts—as solo turns, you know —and then he wrote to us, asking if we’d come and see him. Of course we did--and he was very blunt. He told us what we’d both realised— that though we both adore playing the piano and would hate doing anything else for our living, we just hadn’t got it in us to make top grade. And then he said: ‘And I’ll tell you what I think is the reason for that. You’re twins, and neither of you is quite complete without the other. Well, my advice to you is that you should cash in on that. Either play duets on the same piano or else use special arrangements for four hands on two pianos. I think you’ll get somewhere then because you’ll each give the other something you haven’t got individually.’ You know, we’d never thought of that, but he was right! It works like a charm and we have the greatest fun! And now, to top off everything else he’s done for us, he’s invited us here. That’s a terrific compliment—people angle like anything to get an invitation, but they’re the very ones that don’t get it. I say, you must enjoy living here!” and he regarded her with frank envy.
“It’s very nice,” Lucy admitted, feeling that after Robin’s eulogy her remark must sound singularly lame and inadequate. “Actually, I don’t see a
Well, on this visit she was determined to bring matters to a head. Casually she had asked Owen who the other guests would be and had heard with considerable satisfaction that she need fear no competition from the other women. Celia Littleton was quite clever in her way, of course, and so was Lisa Freyne. But Celia was too young and Lisa too careless of her appearance to make any appeal to Owen. Then, just as Lucy had done, she realised that there must be another woman to make up the number and had asked Owen who she was.
“Oh, Lucy,” he had said carelessly, and had gone on to explain just who Lucy was.
No danger there, Marion had thought complacently. Tall, thin and fair—no, even though Owen saw her every day, perhaps because he saw her every day, there was nothing to fear in that quarter—an opinion which she felt had been confirmed when she saw Lucy.
The men, on the other hand, might be very useful. Not Lord Manderville, of course. He was as old as the hills and he always gave her the feeling that he was looking right through her and out the other side. But the others—Jeremy Trent and Sinclair Forbes—yes, they were all right. Not that she had any intention of flirting with them or letting them flirt with her. Owen would only be disgusted by that. But that little gasp which the two men and young Robin had given when she had made her entry—how flattered they would be had they known it was for their benefit!— had told her all she needed to know. Without any relaxation from the part of a charming but regally aloof woman that she intended to play, Owen would see with his own eyes how desirable other men found her! And since he was anything but a fool, he would see to it that none of them got ahead of him!
Marion drew a deep breath of satisfaction. She was on the brink of a second and in a way greater success than her professional one had been!
Lucy found that Mrs. Mayberry had been quite right. It would be impossible to find two more pleasant or friendly people than Lord Manderville and Robin Littleton, for neighbours at dinner, though in totally different ways.
Robin, like his twin, was bubbling over with high spirits. He thought the world was a wonderful place and that all the people who occupied it were good sorts—especially Owen.
“He’s absolutely terrific,” he confided to Lucy. “He’s always got an ear to the ground, you know, in search of new talent, not because he wants to make out of them, but in case there’s anyone that needs a hand to make the grade. Well, Celia and I were both in our last year at the Academy and he heard us playing at one of the pupils’ concerts—as solo turns, you know —and then he wrote to us, asking if we’d come and see him. Of course we did--and he was very blunt. He told us what we’d both realised— that though we both adore playing the piano and would hate doing anything else for our living, we just hadn’t got it in us to make top grade. And then he said: ‘And I’ll tell you what I think is the reason for that. You’re twins, and neither of you is quite complete without the other. Well, my advice to you is that you should cash in on that. Either play duets on the same piano or else use special arrangements for four hands on two pianos. I think you’ll get somewhere then because you’ll each give the other something you haven’t got individually.’ You know, we’d never thought of that, but he was right! It works like a charm and we have the greatest fun! And now, to top off everything else he’s done for us, he’s invited us here. That’s a terrific compliment—people angle like anything to get an invitation, but they’re the very ones that don’t get it. I say, you must enjoy living here!” and he regarded her with frank envy.
“It’s very nice,” Lucy admitted, feeling that after Robin’s eulogy her remark must sound singularly lame and inadequate. “Actually, I don’t see a
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