Meet The Baron Read Online Free Page B

apparently satisfied to remain unnoticed by men, eligible or otherwise. She was the despair of the Fauntley family, for she had a distressing habit of saying what was in her mind, and caring nothing for consequences. “Well - I don’t want the fellah upset, m’dear. Lorna’s got soma funny ways - ”
    “But she adores him! She said this morning that if we could find a man like Mannering she might think of - of - Of course, I’m not fond of her modern ideas, Hugo, but she means well; I’m sure she does. I’ll telephone her, dear.”
     
    7.15 p.m. The telephone in Lorna Fauntley’s studio rang as Lorna was deliberating over crimson lake or crimson pure for the sash on the portrait of Lady Anne Wrigley.
    “Damn the ‘phone!” said Lorna equably. “Lake would be a little too bright, perhaps. I’ll make it pure. Hallo?”
    “Lorna, darling!”
    “Mother, you ought to be shot. I was just in the middle of something that - ”
    “Yes, dear, I know how busy you are, but I thought you’d like to know that your father’s invited Mr Mannering to-night. I just wondered whether - ”
    “John Mannering?” asked Lorna.
    “Who else?” asked Lady Fauntley. “Eight o’clock; but if you’d like to come I’ll keep dinner back a little while.”
    “I’m a pig of a daughter,” said Lorna Fauntley, “and there are times when I’m ashamed of myself.”
    “I understand you, Lorna.”
    Lorna laughed. “I really think you do,” she said. “Be and angel and send Riddell over with the car. I’ve a dress here that I can wear. Bye-Bye.”

 
3:   Dinner And An Idea
    “So that’s Fauntley’s daughter,” thought Mannering.
    During dinner he sat opposite the girl. There was something disturbing about her, he admitted, although he wasn’t sure what it was. She wasn’t beautiful; remarkable, he told himself, was a word that suited her. Her eyes were grey, thoughtful, and probing. Probing. She had nothing of her mother’s lumpiness, and she was taller than either of her parents. Her movements were graceful but unconsidered, almost like a challenge: “Here am I, whether you like the effect or you don’t.” Mannering did. She looked mutinous, he thought. Her chin was firm, square, and like a man’s.
    “She’s at war with the world,” Mannering told himself, “and that means she’s unhappy, which suggests an affaire. She’s twenty-five, or a year or two older, and she’s cleverer than her years. Hm.”
    “He’s cynical,” Lorna thought, “and I hate cynical men. He’s handsome, and I dislike handsome men. He’s clever, and knows it, and clever men are detestable. Why do I like him?”
    “The most distinguished man I’ve ever seen,” thought Lady Fauntley. “So tall and strong, so reserved. Just the man for Lorna - no, I mustn’t think of such things.” Aloud: “Do try a little of that sauce with your fish, Mr Mannering. It’s very out of the ordinary.”
    Mannering smiled and tried it.
    “It is,” he acknowledged. “Delightful.”
    “Wait till you try the Cockburn 1900,” said Fauntley. “A wine with body in it, real body!”
    Mannering felt the girl’s eyes on him suddenly - smiling eyes. His own twinkled. Yes, he liked her. He told himself that he must spend an hour looking up the record of her painting. She had a reputation for strong work in the old style, despite her modern tendencies in everything but art. It would be strong work, of course. Everything about her suggested power.
    “I hear you had a wonderful day,” said Lady Fauntley.
    “Fair,” said Mannering, smiling secretly. More than ever he realised the good effect his reputation was creating. No one, not even his closest friends, had any idea that he was so low in money.
    He quizzed his hostess for a moment, staring at the Liska diamond in her corsage, and noticing the reddening of her skin under his gaze.
    “That’s a wonderful stone, Lady Fauntley,” he said at length.
    “Recognised it, eh?” chuckled Fauntley.