Free Marjorie Farrel by Miss Ware's Refusal

here?”
    “Making a fool of myself. I had read an advertisement in the Post for a—”
    “Reader?”
    “Why, yes! How did you know?”
    “Barbara and I saw it too and thought of you immediately. It is perfect for you.”
    “So I thought. But Mr. Whithedd will not even see me. How can he think it improper for me to be reading to an elderly gentleman?”
    “Elderly? Of course—you could have had no way of knowing. The ‘blind nobleman’ is Simon Ballance, Duke of Sutton. You met him at Ashurst one Christmas.”
    “Oh, Robin, no—not Simon!” Judith was distraught when she made the connection.
    “Yes. I would have thought Barbara would have told you about it by now.”
    “No, she has never mentioned him.” Judith did not add that she had remembered the duke quite well and had refrained from asking about Simon because she was embarrassed by her own interest.
    “Judith,” said Robin, “this is Francis Bolton, Simon’s secretary.”
    “How do you do, Mr. Bolton.”
    “Let us all three storm Whithedd’s office and convince him he has turned down the best candidate for the job,’’ suggested Robin.
    Fifteen minutes later, the three emerged triumphant. Robin offered to drop Judith off before continuing on with Francis. She accepted, “But only as far as Great Russell Street, Robin. I would like to walk awhile, it is such a lovely day.”
    When Robin dropped her off, Judith had at last some time to think. She had been so shocked at hearing Simon’s name, and things had happened so quickly, that what she had done was just becoming clear to her.
    Judith remembered Simon very well from her visit to the Stanleys’. She had been out riding and was returning to the stableyard when Simon and Robin had arrived, that Christmas three years ago. It was a dry, cold day, and the three of them were red-cheeked and invigorated. Robin had recognized Judith at once, and introduced the duke. That informal meeting in the yard, in the confusion of horses being unharnessed and baggage being lifted down—the young people stamping their numbing feet and laughing about the weather—set the tone of the next ten days. Judith forgot Simon’s rank, as most were wont to do. He was good-looking, and his face was open, curious, and sympathetic, all at once. In his eyes lurked a sense of the absurd, which over the course of their visit she discovered they shared.
    Judith was not returning to school with Barbara, but going on to her first position as governess. She had made up her mind to enjoy her last days of freedom, and did. Before the weather became worse, all four of them rode in the mornings. When they found themselves snowed in, they all seemed to forget their adult status and enjoyed parlor games and card-playing and endless conversations. Barbara’s talent was obvious even then, so each evening they retired to the music room and ended the day with a quiet concert.
    Judith had liked Simon immediately. But as the days went by, she realized that in addition to feeling he was one of the family, she was also attracted to him. They shared many opinions, on everything from politics to literature. Simon seemed to value intelligence in a young woman, unlike the young men of Judith’s neighborhood. As the end of their stay drew near, she realized she was well on her way to being in love with the duke, a state she was determined to avoid. After all, she had resigned herself to her future: three years as a governess, and then London with Stephen.
    In the abstract, not being a conventional young lady hurt not a bit, but never before had her straitened circumstances been brought home to her. Barbara would leave school and become part of the same social set as Simon. Had matters been different, Judith might have been doing the same. She might have looked forward to being introduced to Simon again, even dancing and flirting with him. But things were not different, and on the day before she was to leave, Judith awoke from a dream of waltzing