Canadian fiction -- 20th century; Detective and mystery stories
She called them into lunch. She was painfully conscious of the
discrepancies of her house, but as a matter of fact Counsell was
astonished when he entered. Pen had full control within the house and
the squalor was left out of doors. The furniture, what there was left
of it, dated from the same ugly period as the house, but there were
certain touches; the lofty rooms were cool, inviting, full of charm.
Poor as the Broomes were one could never mistake it for other than a
lady's house. Particularly the dining-room with its velvety smooth
walnut table, the hand-made mats, the dull old silver, the flowers, the
delicious looking food.
"Oh! but I'm hungry!" Counsell said involuntarily, showing all his
white teeth.
Glancing at Pen he found her eyes obstinately hidden, but she betrayed
a dimple.
Not until she heard Counsell pick up his knife and fork did she venture
to look at him. She had been waiting for the moment when his attention
would be distracted by food. The smooth turn of his ruddy cheek and
his long, curved lashes hurt her with delight. There was something
affectingly boyish about him for all his strength and his assured air.
Pen yearned to mother that shining head against her breast. She never
looked at him but the once, yet she was aware of every mouthful he
took, and every mouthful gave her satisfaction.
Pendleton Broome opened his eyes rather at the spread. The glance of
reproof that he sent across to Pen suggested that while hospitality was
the first law of the Broomes, still there should be reason in all
things. From that moment with true male consistency he began to cool
towards their young guest.
Nevertheless, charmed to have a sophisticated listener, he aired all
his quaint and impractical theories. He dabbled in chemistry amongst
other things, and had a great store of pseudo-scientific patter.
Counsell listened politely and made the suitable rejoinders, but never
lost an opportunity of trying to draw Pen into the talk. Pen,
resisting his efforts, was nevertheless secretly delighted with his
adroitness. It made her realize how she had been hungering for the
graces of intercourse.
Once Counsell asked her directly: "Do you know New York?"
"I went to school there." She named a famous finishing school.
Counsell could not but look his surprise.
"I had a legacy," said Pen demurely. Her father frowned.
"Then you know people in New York?" Counsell said eagerly.
She shook her head. "I have not kept up with the girls."
"She deliberately dropped them!" her father put in with an aggrieved
air. "It is the infernal Broome pride. She was most popular in
school."
Pen laughed lightly. "Northerners are different," she said. "They
don't make a merit of their departed glories."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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