Free Choose the One You'll Marry by Mary Burchell

explained.
    “Don’t I get you to myself?” Angus inquired, in a tone that made Ruth’s heart miss a beat.
    But she remembered that she was here as Aunt Henrietta’s guest, and that her company was supposed to give pleasure to the older woman. So she said firmly, “Not this evening. Another time perhaps.”
    “Another time for certain,” he corrected before he hung up, and Ruth was left standing there smiling, with the receiver in her hand.
    At seven o’clock precisely Angus presented himself, looking very distinguished and charming in his dinner jacket. And although he didn’t actually kiss Ruth on arrival, she had the impression that he might well have done so if Aunt Henrietta and Michael had not come in almost immediately.
    She made the introductions and saw that, in spite of his powers of self-control, he was a good deal taken aback—presumably at the sight of Michael. She was sorry there had been no time to warn him. But then she had not known herself until the drive down that Michael would be one of their company.
    Over the drinks there was the conventional sort of conversation that is the only kind possible between people meeting for the first time, and Ruth realized—a little indignantly—that, in spite of his slighting references to Angus, Michael had not met him personally before.
    She was glad, therefore, when she had a few moments alone with Angus at last, while Aunt Henrietta went to her room to get ready, and Michael went to get the car from the nearby garage.
    “I’m sorry, Angus—” she turned impulsively to him “—I didn’t have time to let you know about Michael.”
    “What about him?” Angus asked absently.
    “Why, that—that he’s here at all. I didn’t realize myself that he was going to live here until we were on the way down. And there wasn’t any time to prepare you before he and Aunt Henrietta came in.”
    “Oh, that’s all right. I’m old enough to take an awkward meeting or two in my stride, I guess.” Angus grinned at her.
    “But you looked rather taken aback,” she said sympathetically.
    “Did I? Well, I was.”
    “At the sight of Michael?”
    “No. At the sight of your Aunt Henrietta,” Angus said slowly. “I’ve seen her before somewhere. I’ve even known her fairly well, I’m certain. But her name wasn’t Curtis then.”

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
    “You ’ ve seen her before?” repeated Ruth, in a sort of horrid fascination. “You’ve—known her quite well? But are you sure?”
    “Quite sure. I never forget a personality.” Angus was pos i tive about that.
    “Then,” Ruth said uncomfortably, “either it must have been in the last few weeks, or else it must have been somewhere in New Zealand, or Australia. She’s lived in both countries.”
    “Oh, no, no. It was some years back. But it couldn’t have been in New Zealand or Australia. I’ve never been near either of them.”
    “You must be thinking of someone else,” Ruth insisted, with an eagerness for which she could not quite account. “And probably you caught a glimpse of Aunt Henrietta at the Excelsior, and the two impressions merged.”
    But Angus was not even listening to her suggestions. He was pursuing his own elusive ideas, with the air of a man dete r mined to remember something.
    “Does it—matter?” Ruth asked, almost timidly.
    “No. Not really, I suppose.” He laughed and patted her dark head. “Only it’s always irritating when one can’t pin down an exact recollection. If I could just remember—”
    “She’s coming,” said Ruth nervously, as she heard footsteps outside the door. “Don’t say anything.”
    “No, of course not.” Angus smiled, and his expression changed immediately to nothing more than one of agreeable courtesy and interest.
    Whatever Angus might think or assert, it was obvious to Ruth that Aunt Henrietta had no recollection whatever of having met him anywhere before. Or if she had, then she was the most consummate actress.
    As they went out to the