i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (the false prince .TXT) 📕

that she had sent the book away, and that the publisher was Herbert's cousin. Were she to tell him, he would likely imply that influence was the main factor on which it had relied for publication. Hiding her annoyance, she smilingly led the way into the dining room.

In an endeavour to hold fast to the new ground they were on, Rodney burst out, "This calls for a celebration. Let's go somewhere tonight!

We'll dash up to Newcastle;

I'll order a table. "

"Rodney!" Stella's voice was patient.

"Do you really mean to say you have forgotten we are giving a dinner tonight?"

"Good lord! So I had."

"Even with your friends the Davidsons coming?"

"Now, now, Stella. No sarcasm."

"But I'm not being sarcastic. You are for ever talking of them, so it surprises me that you have forgotten you invited them."

"I had forgotten about tonight, but only for the moment. I wanted us to have a little fling to celebrate your success."

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but we'll have to reserve it for another time. Tonight we entertain the locals' ... all but one, she added to herself.

At her reference to the locals Rodney gave her a quick glance. Then he lapsed into silence; for he knew they were no nearer. Her success had made her more pleasant for a time, that was all, and had saved him from having another dose of her patient suffering that would have surely followed his latest indiscretion of bringing the child to the house.

Another of Mrs. Prince's dinners was drawing to its close. Clara Richards, sitting at her host's right hand, looked down the long, glittering table to where her hostess sat talking to that pasty-looking young man who kept flinging his hands about as though they did not belong to him. Mrs. Richards was inwardly seething. At her last dinner, when the Princes were there, she had served seven courses; it had taken days to look up books and think out dishes. Now that china doll up there had served only five and had everyone exclaiming over them . her and her hors d'oeuvres, and her finger-bowls and candles on the table. Who was she, anyway? Only a doctor's wife, like herself.

And look at him, there, laughing with Peggy Davidson. Looking at Rodney, she wondered what it

was about him that had trebled his practice within four years; he had more than half the Tyne Dock patients and all East Jarrow; and then that Lady Cuthbert Harris sending for him right from yon end of Westoe.

It was easy for Joe to say she was a neurotic and hoped to get a sensation out of his beard. Joe had lost quite a number of patients lately, mostly women; and why? Well, he certainly wasn't her idea of handsome. It's his la-la manners and haw-haw voice they go daft over, I suppose. Something would have to be done; but what? She didn't know.

She certainly couldn't see her Joe mincing around women, and perhaps that was something to be thankful for. She had enough trouble with him, as it was; the money he spent on drink, and with three girls to bring up I Which brought her back to her hostess. It paid you to hold a candle to the Devil. Stella Prince had a sister married to a lord; not one of these newly made ones, either. She had looked up this particular one's lineage, and had been deeply impressed. They had visited here last year, and would likely visit again; and if her girls could obtain an introduction to a lord_ well everything has to start, hasn't it. Across the table, Peggy Davidson was now listening to Doctor Richards's pompous voice and thinking. How soon can we leave? I hope the kiddies are asleep. But they won't be . they'll be playing old Anna up. Fancy having a dinner on a Christmas Eve! Oh, I hate leaving the house tonight; and I've got their stockings to fill. I wonder if we could go about nine o'clock. No, that would be too soon. And it would likely hurt Rodney; he's so anxious for me to be friends with her; but I can't. Still, I mustn't let him see. He sounds very gay tonight, as if he has been drinking. But he seldom touches anything.

She cast a quick glance at him. It's all put on; he's not happy. And this house! It's like a showpiece. ^What he wants is a home. I used to wonder how he could be comfortable in our sitting-room, with the mess it's usually in, but I don't wonder any longer after having seen this.

The rather squeaky voice of the young man broke in upon her thoughts.

He had risen and was holding a glass of wine in his hand: "Ladies and gentlemen! I ask you to

In an endeavour to hold fast to the new ground they were on, Rodney burst out, "This calls for a celebration. Let's go somewhere tonight!

We'll dash up to Newcastle;

I'll order a table. "

"Rodney!" Stella's voice was patient.

"Do you really mean to say you have forgotten we are giving a dinner tonight?"

"Good lord! So I had."

"Even with your friends the Davidsons coming?"

"Now, now, Stella. No sarcasm."

"But I'm not being sarcastic. You are for ever talking of them, so it surprises me that you have forgotten you invited them."

"I had forgotten about tonight, but only for the moment. I wanted us to have a little fling to celebrate your success."

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but we'll have to reserve it for another time. Tonight we entertain the locals' ... all but one, she added to herself.

At her reference to the locals Rodney gave her a quick glance.