The Other Linding Girl Read Online Free Page A

most people one. could make some sort of guess. Stockbroker, actor, bank manager, doctor, artist. But not with Nigel Seton. And, with a
    slight sense of shock, Rachel came back to the odd thing he had said on the telephone—“I live by my wits.”
    No wonder her dignified and conventional uncle found him a thorn in the flesh!
    Sir Everard, however, made a visible effort to be genial, as he said,
    “Well, Nigel, you’re provided with a very attractive partner this evening, I must say. Rachel could hardly look prettier, could she?” And he looked as though he were in some way responsible for his satisfactory niece’ s appearance.
    “She could not,” agreed Nigel Seton gravely. “But don’t embarrass her.”
    “Embarrass her? No girl is embarrassed by the underlining of her good points,” declared Sir Everard. “And I think Rachel’s ego can do with a little boosting. She informed me, on arrival, that she is the ordinary one of the family.”
    “Very modest of her,” commented Nigel Seton in a rather equivocal manner. And then Oliver Mayforth returned and, a few minutes later, Hester made her appearance, looking radiantly lovely in her new Florian gown.
    Even if he had no wish to accompany her to the ball, it was obvious that Sir Everard took the greatest pride and pleasure in his young wife’s appearance. He said, “My dear, you look wonderful!” and warmly kissed the very cool cheek which she presented to him.
    “There’s always one who kisses and one who turns the cheek ” thought Rachel. “I’m somehow sorry for Uncle Everard.”
    But Uncle Everard looked quite content as he waved them on their way. Which, in a strange way, did not reduce Rachel’s queer compassion for him.
    Nigel's car proved to be a battered affair In comparison with Oliver Mayforth’s. But it was comfortable enough, once one was inside. And, while he waited for the others to move out ahead of them, he turned to Rachel with an amused glance and said, “So-you’re the ordinary member of the family? Your brothers and sisters must be quite something.”
    “Two sisters,” she specified gravely. “The elder one really a beauty and the younger one immensely gay and lively. I come in the middle.”
    “Was that what decided you to leave home?” he enquired, as he started the car, and Rachel blinked slightly at such unexpected acumen.
    “Not entirely.” She indulged in no indignant and hollow denials. “I’m greatly attached to both of them, but I was beginning to feel a little tired of being described as ‘the other Linding girl— what’s her name?’”
    He laughed.
    “I don’t believe that?”
    “You don’t believe I was getting tired of it?”
    “No, I don’t believe that’s what happened. You’re not the other anything. You’re completely—and intriguingly—yourself.” Rachel tried not to look as gratified as she felt.
    “That’s a very nice speech,” she said lightly. “But—” remembering suddenly what her uncle had said—“I think perhaps you’ve made it to other girls before me.”
    “No,” was the cool reply. “It hasn’t applied to other girls before you.”
    “O-oh,” said Rachel, and was silent.
    “What makes you think I might have?” he enquired curiously. “Well—” Rachel was slightly nonplussed, for it was difficult to answer that without implicating her uncle. “I had the idea—I mean—”
    “Yes?”
    “You did imply, on the telephone, that you were a—a rather lightweight sort of person.” She recalled that with some relief. “You said you—lived by your wits.”
    Rachel was not aware that her voice dropped to a gravely critical note on that last phrase. She was only aware that she had made him laugh heartily—and that it was both a mocking and an oddly attractive laugh.
    “Well, I do,” he agreed.
    “But what do you mean by that? It’s nothing to laugh about. It’s rather—rather deplorable. Haven’t you got a regular job or profession?”
    “Not