Cotillion Read Free Page B

things are always done! Your own sisters—”
    “I have yet to learn that my sisters were forced into marriages that were distasteful to them!”
    Mr. Penicuik opened his snuff-box again. “What makes you think marriage to one of you would be distasteful to the girl?” he asked blandly. “Maybe she don’t fancy you, but that ain’t to say there isn’t one amongst you she might not be glad to pick. She don’t know any other men, so there’s bound to be.” Inhaling too large a pinch of Nut Brown, he sneezed violently several times. When he had recovered from this seizure, he said: “Going to be open with you! Everyone knows the Charings: good stock, fit to couple with any family! The thing is, Kitty has French blood in her.”
    This information was well known to the company, but he disclosed it with all the air of one making a damaging admission. “Evron was the name. Never knew much about the family myself. They were émigrés, but not noble—at least, if they were it’s more than Tom ever told me. They won’t trouble you: I saw to that! Fellow who said he was Kitty’s uncle came here once—oh, years ago! Brought his sons with him: couple of scrubby schoolboys, they were. I soon sent him to the rightabout: a very neat article I thought him! No use his trying to bamboozle me, and so I told him! A sponge, that’s what he was, if he wasn’t worse. However, to the best of my belief he took himself off to France again. I never heard any more of him, at all events. But Desiree— Kitty’s mother—” He broke off, and his gaze, which had been flickering from Biddenden’s face to the Reverend Hugh’s, transferred itself to the smouldering logs in the grate. He did not finish his sentence, but said, after a pause: “Pretty little thing, Kitty, but she’ll never be the equal of her mother. Favours poor Tom too much. Got something of her mother’s look: I see it now and then: but Des—Mrs. Charing—Well, never mind! That ain’t to the purpose.” He stretched out his hand towards the bell-rope, and pulled it vigorously. “I’ll have her in,” he said. “But, mind, now! I ain’t compelling her to choose any of you three—well, she can’t choose you, George, because you’re married already! I don’t know what brings you here: I never invited you!”
    Lord Dolphinton, pleased to hear his words thus confirmed, turned his eyes towards his elder cousin, and remarked succinctly: “Told you so!”
    Chapter II
    A few minutes later, Miss Catherine Charing entered the room, accompanied by an elderly lady whose sparse gray locks had been crimped into ringlets which dangled on either side of an amiable if not comely countenance. The absence of a cap proclaimed her spinsterhood; she wore a high-gown of an unbecoming shade of puce; and carried a reticule in one bony hand. Mr. Penicuik no sooner saw her than he exclaimed with unnecessary violence: “Not you, woman, not you! Think I haven’t had a bellyful of your face today? Go away! go away!”
    The elderly lady made a faint clucking noise, but although she looked frightened she did not seem to be surprised by this unconventional greeting. She said: “Oh, Mr. Penicuik! At such a time—such a delicate occasion—!”
    “Kitty!” interrupted Mr. Penicuik. “Throw that Fish out of the room!”
    The elderly lady uttered a protesting shriek; Miss Charing, however, pushed her gently but inexorably over the threshold, saying: “I told you how it would be!” She then closed the door, favoured the company with a wide-eyed and thoughtful gaze, and advanced into the middle of the room.
    “Good girl!” approved Mr. Penicuik. “Sit down!”
    “Take this chair!” urged Lord Biddenden.
    “You will be comfortable here, my dear Kitty,” said the Reverend Hugh, indicating the chair from which he had risen at her entrance.
    Not to be outdone, Lord Dolphinton gulped, and said: “Take mine! Not comfortable, but very happy to— Pray take it!”
    Miss Charing bestowed