“Run along,” she directed, interrupting Janet’s hasty protests. “I was young once myself. Don’t bother to wait for me. My husband will get me some fruit punch.”
Reluctantly Janet walked toward her box, Barnard in close attendance. In her desire not to have him see her with Tom, she had given him an opening for a quiet chat with her alone—unless Marjorie was in their box. But Marjorie, attended by Baron von Valkenberg, had gone “visiting” in a neighboring box, and Duncan was dancing with Pauline Calhoun-Cooper. Janet prayed that Barnard was in a pleasant mood; she had grown to dread his uncertain temper. He could be so charming when he wanted to. Her heart was fluttering like a caged bird as she preceded Barnard into the empty box; she dared not offend him, and she dreaded more scenes.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” she began.
“For what?”
“On your inheritance.”
“Oh, that!” Barnard spoke as if it were a mere bagatelle. “I may be a long time getting it; settling an estate is tedious work. Aunt Margaret was angelic to remember me in her will, and I am doubly grateful, because, when I receive the inheritance I can lavish it all on you, my darling,” bending toward her, but a loud burst of laughter from the Calhoun-Cooper box caused him to look in that direction. Janet moved her chair imperceptibly nearer the brass railing and away from his side.
“On second’s thought I don’t believe I’ll let you spend any of your inheritance on me,” she remarked thoughtfully, as he turned back to her. The pupils of his eyes contracted, and Janet was conscious of a feeling akin to repulsion.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“I’m not good enough for you, Chichester,” she stammered. “You should marry a woman of brilliant mental attainments—a woman of the world—I’m only an unformed schoolgirl.”
“You have too modest an opinion of yourself,” he protested with passionate ardor. “It’s your freshness, your originality which I adore. My bonnie lassie and her susceptible heart!” His voice and eyes caressed her, and a warmer color suffused her cheeks. “I’m not half good enough for you, but such as I am, I am your slave always.”