Female friendship -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
And instead he was not even attempting to make love to her, not even
flirting with her. Would any other man she knew have ridden beside her
thus after the gentleness she had shown? Was that perhaps the very
secret of his attraction? Or was it a physical allurement—the
irresistible charm of bigness and strength, independent of anything
else, drawing with its time-old sway?
She had no time to probe further, as the brougham stopped at her door.
He handed her out with the deference so often met with in big men,
remarking with an old-fashioned air that suited him to perfection:
“I’m afraid we have all tired you very much. It was good of you to come
with us. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate it.”
“Oh, indeed no; you refreshed me. Good-night. Stevens will run you
home. Don’t forget Sunday”, and she moved away.
“It must be his bigness,” was her last thought as her head touched the
pillow. “When I am used to it, no doubt the novelty will pass, and I
shall find him merely boyish, and be rather bored.”
“I wonder if it is her dainty smallness,” Dudley was musing, away in
his Bloomsbury lodging, feeling still, with a pleasant thrill, the
touch of Doris’s small hand on his arm, and seeing again the upward,
confiding expression in her wide blue eyes. “Odd that Hal should be so
far astray in her judgment, when she is usually so clever; but if she
knew her better she would change her mind.”
As for Hal herself, she hastily tumbled into bed, still chuckling in
huge enjoyment over her evening.
“Those boys are just dears,” was her thought, “and I wouldn’t have
missed Lady Bounce for the world. What a good thing Dudley was taken
with paternal affection for that little fool Doris, and I had to have a
chaperone. Heigh-ho! what a scene there will be if he hears about it;
but what’s the odds so long as you’re happy? And oh dear! what will
Lady Phyllis Fenton say when she finds out”; and once more the even
teeth flashed an irresistible smile into the darkness.
CHAPTER X
It was force of habit chiefly that caused Lorraine, as a rule, to sleep
long and late on Sunday mornings; and it was greatly to her advantage
that for so many months, and even years, no mental anxiety had robbed
her of a splendid capacity to rest. She seemed to have a faculty for
limiting her worrying hours to the daylight, and being able to lay them
aside, like her correspondence, at night.
Yet on the following Sunday morning she found herself early awake, with
a brain only too ready to begin probing restlessly, and having little
of the calm friendliness she intended it should have towards her guest
of the evening.
To add to her unrest, her mother paid her an early visit, of a sort
that had been growing too frequent of late. It was not enough that
Lorraine paid her rent, and gave her a handsome allowance; when there
chanced to be no one else to pay her debts, these came upon Lorraine’s
shoulders also.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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