A Christmas Gambol Read Free Page B

read the book, he would have to say something nice about it. Perhaps Meg would read it for him.
    “But if Papa does find out ... ,” Sissie said, and sat, worrying.
    Miss Caldwell looked commandingly at Montaigne. “Then Lord Montaigne will do your explaining and apologizing for you.”
    Montaigne foresaw the difficulties in this scheme. He was the perpetrator of the idea; he was older, a gentleman. If anything went amiss, he could end up with a fine mess in his dish. Not that anything was likely to go amiss, but why take chances?
    “No, I don’t care for this underhanded business,” he said firmly. “I shall speak to your papa and get his permission before you go. Where would I find him?”
    “At the oast houses,” Miss Caldwell said.
    Montaigne left, and the two young ladies immediately began discussing the adventure.
    “Papa will never let me go,” Cicely said.
    “Montaigne will turn him up sweet. The orphans, you know. Now, what we must decide is what you are to wear to this dinner party. How fortunate we put new ribbons on your blue ball gown last week for the winter assembly. You must take Mama’s diamond necklace and my new fringed shawl. Meg will have a coiffeur in to do something stylish to your hair. Oh, I am so happy for you, Sissie. I know you will sell your book. You will be the next Frances Burney, mark my words.”
    “Hardly that famous!” Sissie demurred. “But it will be a wonderful opportunity for me to see how London Society goes on. I feel my writing is hampered by my lack of experience.”
    “Meg can help you there. Why, there is no saying who you will meet at her house. She is top of the trees. You might even meet an eligible parti,” Miss Caldwell added with a teasing smile.
    Cicely threw her head back and sighed luxuriously. “I don’t care if I never marry, if only I can get my novel published. We will grow old together, Anne, you keeping house and me writing. I can’t think of anything I should like better.”
    Anne looked at her askance. “I can! We have a pretty dull time here. I do think you might put just a little more romance in your next novel, Sissie. I’m not speaking of anything like that foolish Eugenie and her crystal tears and swoons, but perhaps a handsome hero and a slightly younger heroine.”
    “You know you were my heroine, Anne. I just added a decade to her age to fool the neighbors. I read in an article of advice to writers that we ought to write about what we know. What do I know about handsome heroes?”
    “I know it was my story, my dear, and I am flattered that you see me in such a glow of admiration, but one book about me is enough. I should not mind in the least if you had given me a husband at the end, instead of consigning me to watching my nieces and nephews.”
    “It’s not supposed to be a romance, Anne. It’s about real life.”
    “There’s such a thing as too much reality—in books, I mean. Romance is a part of life, too.”
    Cicely scowled. “I knew you liked Eugenie better than Georgiana.”
    “No, not better. Georgiana could have used just a touch of Eugenie’s emotion, and Eugenie could have used a good deal of Georgiana’s sound common sense. It might be interesting, in another book, to try a more varied cast of characters and a different background. That is why I think this trip to London will be such a help. London has everything from lords and heiresses to beggars and villains. You will see palaces as well as the worst slums there. I wonder how Georgiana would have behaved if she had been confronted with knaves and beggars, as Eugenie was, instead of safe, rural neighbors.”
    “At least she would not have bawled.”
    They were still discussing heroines and the visit to London when Lord Montaigne returned half an hour later. Before he could speak, Cicely jumped up. His dashing smile told her that her papa had agreed to the visit. It struck Sissie, who was always on the lookout for new characters, that Montaigne would make an