"He is more than attractive, he is positively FASCINATING," she said

to herself in the solitude of her room after the tete-a-tete over the

Welsh rarebit that evening. "I don't know when I have felt such a

pleasure in a man's presence. Not since--" But the Baroness did not

allow herself to go back so far. "If there is any fruit I DETEST, it

is DATES," she often said laughingly. "Some people delight in a good

memory--I delight in a good forgettory of the past, with its telltale

milestones of birthdays and anniversaries of marriages, deaths and

divorces."

"Mr Cheney said I looked very young to have been twice married.

Twice!" and she laughed aloud before her mirror, revealing the pink

arch of her mouth, and two perfect sets of yellow-white teeth, with

only one blemishing spot of gold visible. "I wonder if he meant it,

though?" she mused. "And the fact that I DO wonder is the sure proof

that I am really interested in this man. As a rule, I never believe

a word men say, though I delight in their flattery all the same. It

makes me feel comfortable even when I know they are lying. But I

should really feel hurt if I thought Mr Cheney had not meant what he

said. I don't believe he knows much about women, or about himself

lower than his brain. He has never studied his heart. He is all

ambition. If an ambitious and unsophisticated youth of twenty-five

or twenty-eight does get infatuated with a woman of my age--he is a

perfect toy in her hands. Ah, well, we shall see what we shall see."

And the Baroness finished her massage in cold cream, and put her

blonde head on the pillow and went sound asleep.

After that first tete-a-tete supper the fair widow managed to see

Preston at least once or twice a week. She sent for him to ask his

advice on business matters, she asked him to aid her in changing the

position of the furniture in a room when the servants were all busy,

and she invited him to her private parlour for lunch every Sunday

afternoon. It was during one of these chats over cake and wine that

the young man spoke of Berene. The Baroness had dropped some remarks

about her servants, and Preston said, in a casual tone of voice which

hid the real interest he felt in the subject, "By the way, one of

your servants has quite an unusual voice. I have heard her singing

about the halls a few times, and it seems to me she has real talent."




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