and, knowing Judith’s prejudices, had taken care that they need not be thrown together too much.
And when it was time to go into dinner she found that her guess was correct. The dining-table was round, and Judith had been carefully placed between Mr. Bellairs and Desmond, although that meant that brother and sister were next to each other. However, it soon appeared that Miss Ravensdale knew what she was doing. She, naturally, after a few words with Charles, turned to her contemporary, Mr. Bellairs, while Desmond devoted all his attention to Judith. Evidently, Linda thought drily, Charles had been as much of a surprise to him as to her and, consequently, he was working hard to keep all Judith’s interest for himself.
He need not have been quite so assiduous, Linda thought complacently. For Charles, apparently, had no eyes at all for Judith. And really, was it any wonder? Why should a man like that, who obviously must know his own attractions, be bothered to pay attention to a badly dressed girl with no manners or charm of any sort when he could talk to herself? Fortunately for her self-confidence it did not occur to her to wonder why a man who worked from choice and not necessity should stay on in what must be very uncomfortable conditions.
Of course, what Judith in her prejudice had missed entirely, was the fact that he was a man of considerable education and culture. Or if she did realise it, it only served to strengthen her opinion that Charles must be a waster to need such a job. Linda, with her greater knowledge of the truth, could appreciate the fact that it betokened considerable character in a man to work hard when he did not have to.
Nor did her first impression of him change. Definitely exciting. The sort of man who, however unconsciously, makes women aware of his presence. And, Linda judged, who was able to find considerable pleasure in the companionship of an attractive woman.
She was intensely conscious of the fact that he was deliberately assessing her, weighing up her attractions, deciding what she was really like, and Linda felt completely unperturbed. She knew perfectly well that she could stand any amount of scrutiny that night, and if anything was needed to add a finishing touch to her charms it was that she was on trial. It was like a spark to tinder, and she was by turns a sparkling raconteur or an absorbed listener as the moment demanded.
But Charles could not help noticing that more than once there was a puzzled look in her eyes, and, manlike, he naturally wondered what it was all about.
Not until they were out on the terrace again drinking their coffee did she give vent to an exclamation of triumph. Charles looked up, smiling an enquiry.
“You know, ever since Miss Ravensdale introduced us, I was sure that I had seen you before!” she explained. “And now I remember where it was! The year before last I attended a point-to-point with some friends in Sussex, and you were riding!”
“I don’t remember,” Charles said apologetically.
“Oh, we weren’t introduced,” Linda explained. “As a matter of fact, you were talking with some other people. I think my friends said your brother and his wife. Sir Roger—something. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten what!”
It was so naturally done that inevitably Charles replied:
“Garwin. Yes, we’d driven over.”
Suddenly there was an abrupt movement and Judith was standing there.
“Do you mean to say—is it true that Sir Roger is your brother?” she demanded fiercely.
Charles stood up.
“My half-brother,” he corrected. “Yes, it is quite true!”
Judith’s laugh was almost hysterical in its triumph.
“It isn’t any wonder then that your references were so marvellous!” she said viciously. “Or that, right from the beginning, I was convinced that they were worthless!”
CHAPTER FOUR
FOR a second there was a silence so intense that it could be felt. Then Miss Ravensdale gave a little gasp and Mr. Bellairs clicked his
And when it was time to go into dinner she found that her guess was correct. The dining-table was round, and Judith had been carefully placed between Mr. Bellairs and Desmond, although that meant that brother and sister were next to each other. However, it soon appeared that Miss Ravensdale knew what she was doing. She, naturally, after a few words with Charles, turned to her contemporary, Mr. Bellairs, while Desmond devoted all his attention to Judith. Evidently, Linda thought drily, Charles had been as much of a surprise to him as to her and, consequently, he was working hard to keep all Judith’s interest for himself.
He need not have been quite so assiduous, Linda thought complacently. For Charles, apparently, had no eyes at all for Judith. And really, was it any wonder? Why should a man like that, who obviously must know his own attractions, be bothered to pay attention to a badly dressed girl with no manners or charm of any sort when he could talk to herself? Fortunately for her self-confidence it did not occur to her to wonder why a man who worked from choice and not necessity should stay on in what must be very uncomfortable conditions.
Of course, what Judith in her prejudice had missed entirely, was the fact that he was a man of considerable education and culture. Or if she did realise it, it only served to strengthen her opinion that Charles must be a waster to need such a job. Linda, with her greater knowledge of the truth, could appreciate the fact that it betokened considerable character in a man to work hard when he did not have to.
Nor did her first impression of him change. Definitely exciting. The sort of man who, however unconsciously, makes women aware of his presence. And, Linda judged, who was able to find considerable pleasure in the companionship of an attractive woman.
She was intensely conscious of the fact that he was deliberately assessing her, weighing up her attractions, deciding what she was really like, and Linda felt completely unperturbed. She knew perfectly well that she could stand any amount of scrutiny that night, and if anything was needed to add a finishing touch to her charms it was that she was on trial. It was like a spark to tinder, and she was by turns a sparkling raconteur or an absorbed listener as the moment demanded.
But Charles could not help noticing that more than once there was a puzzled look in her eyes, and, manlike, he naturally wondered what it was all about.
Not until they were out on the terrace again drinking their coffee did she give vent to an exclamation of triumph. Charles looked up, smiling an enquiry.
“You know, ever since Miss Ravensdale introduced us, I was sure that I had seen you before!” she explained. “And now I remember where it was! The year before last I attended a point-to-point with some friends in Sussex, and you were riding!”
“I don’t remember,” Charles said apologetically.
“Oh, we weren’t introduced,” Linda explained. “As a matter of fact, you were talking with some other people. I think my friends said your brother and his wife. Sir Roger—something. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten what!”
It was so naturally done that inevitably Charles replied:
“Garwin. Yes, we’d driven over.”
Suddenly there was an abrupt movement and Judith was standing there.
“Do you mean to say—is it true that Sir Roger is your brother?” she demanded fiercely.
Charles stood up.
“My half-brother,” he corrected. “Yes, it is quite true!”
Judith’s laugh was almost hysterical in its triumph.
“It isn’t any wonder then that your references were so marvellous!” she said viciously. “Or that, right from the beginning, I was convinced that they were worthless!”
CHAPTER FOUR
FOR a second there was a silence so intense that it could be felt. Then Miss Ravensdale gave a little gasp and Mr. Bellairs clicked his
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