His One Woman. Paula Marshall

slightly shrugging manner correctly.

      ‘Gentlemen box in England, you know,’ he said, trying to be helpful.

      ‘No, I don’t,’ said Sophie off-puttingly. She thought nothing of Charles. He was apparently only some secretary dragged along by Big Brother in order to prose about dull matters and take Jack’s attention away from her.

      Jack was now engaged in discussing railway lines with Marietta, and their importance in the coming war. Railway lines! Who cared about them?

      She gave poor Charles her shoulder, ignorant of the fact that he had felt sorry for the pretty young girl who was so patently bored by the conversation of her elders and had tried to include her in it.

      Marietta was well aware that, for once, she was not considering Sophie before herself by bringing her out and turning the conversation towards matters that would interest her. She was finding her male guests both interesting and amusing—and was enjoying herself for a change, rather than always thinking of others. Sophie was the third of her cousins whom she had introduced to Washington life.

      She decided that Jack and Alan were more alike than she had originally thought, both in looks and intellect. Alan might, at first, give off the impression of being a bluff and open Englishman, but her father’s appreciation of him as a devious and clever man was an accurate one. Jack resembled him in that for, when first met, he gave off the impression of being a charming idler, and this was what had caused Sophie to be attracted to him. But this impression was not a correct one. He was both knowledgeable and shrewd, reminding her of some of the men she had met on Capitol Hill who concealed their ability beneath charm and good manners.

      She liked Charles, too, and was sorry that Sophie was being so openly rude to him in her disappointment at the turn which the tea party had taken, which was giving her little opportunity to display her kittenish charm.

      Fearful that Sophie might be provoked into displaying even more bad manners, she steered Jack’s and Alan’s interest adroitly towards her and began to talk to Charles herself. She found him as interesting a man as Jack and his brother. Unlike them, his manner was diffident, but he was well informed, and even a little surprised to discover how knowledgeable Marietta was. It was also evident that he hero-worshipped the large Mr Dilhorne, who was plainly fond of him.

      Everyone enjoyed the promised tea and Jack’s jokes while they ate it. Everyone that was, but Sophie, who, seeing Marietta’s eye on her, ungraciously refused a third muffin. ‘Marietta will threaten me with growing fat if I eat another.’

      ‘Quite right, too,’ said Alan cheerfully. ‘I have to watch my weight, alas,’ and he, too, waved a muffin away. ‘We are fellow sufferers, Miss Sophie, and must comfort one another.’

      Despite this offered sympathy, Alan had decided that he did not like Miss Sophie, and wondered a little at Jack for pursuing her. The cousin, though not the prettiest of women, was a much better bet. She had a good mind and possessed an excellent body beneath all the clothing which women were forced to wear. Must be the exercise she takes, he decided. It would pay Miss Sophie to take more.

      Sophie would have been horrified if she had been privy to Alan’s thoughts, but, devious man that he was, he gave her the false impression that he found her as charming as Jack did and had quite won her over before the visit ended.

      ‘We shall certainly abuse your hospitality by coming again soon,’ Alan told Marietta before they left. ‘Where else should we find two such charming ladies, such an excellent tea and such entertaining conversation? Pray pay our respects to the Senator when he returns.’

      Marietta and Sophie watched them go.

      ‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t return all the large gentleman’s compliments,’ said Sophie harshly once they were safely away. ‘And why in the world did he bring such a dull stick as his office boy along with him? Surely Charles Stanton has enough pen-pushing to do at the British Envoy’s office without inflicting his boring opinions on us.’

      Marietta looked at Sophie. She had learned something during her conversation with Alan which was going to upset her cousin more than a little.

      ‘I’m sorry that you disliked Charles,’ she said quietly. ‘But Alan could hardly leave him behind when he came to visit us. Besides, I doubt whether he does much pen-pushing. Charles does not use his title in private life, but he is here as the representative of the British House of Lords, and is properly Viscount Stanton. He is also an expert in his line of engineering and is a cousin of Alan Dilhorne’s wife.’

      Sophie blushed an unbecoming red. A real live lord! A viscount, no less! Sophie over-estimated this—her knowledge of the British peerage, her knowledge of everything, was small—and she thought that a viscount was even grander than he was. Alas, she had snubbed him so mercilessly that, however kind Charles was, there could be no chance of her ever retrieving her position with him.

      ‘How dare you keep that from me?’ she burst out. ‘I suppose that you wanted me to make a fool of myself. How was I to know that such an inconsequential little man was even grander than Jack’s brother?’

      ‘Since I only found out who he was a few moments ago, and purely by accident,’ returned Marietta quietly, ‘I could hardly have informed you before their arrival. May I remind you that your own good manners required you to be civil to him, and from what I saw you were sadly lacking in them.’

      ‘I will not be prosed at by a plain old maid,’ said Sophie, disgusted by the whole wretched business, what with hardly speaking to Jack, and being bored witless. ‘If you’re so all-fired clever, Miss Marietta Hope, how come you’re on the shelf, and like to remain there for all your fine conversation about ships and submersibles?’

      Marietta looked steadily at her cousin. She had always known that Sophie disliked and despised her—the first of her cousins whom she had helped through their début in Washington society to do so. She thought that she knew what had brought this outburst on, but she had as much right to enjoy herself as Sophie did. She had found their guests to be out of the common run, and their patent admiration of her knowledge and her intellect had been most flattering. Englishmen were not supposed to like clever women, so they must be exceptions.

      Of course, Jack was not English, and his brother little more so, and it was plain that Charles was also a remarkable man behind his quiet exterior, so she could not take them as true representatives of the English tribe. She could only hope that they would visit her again. She could not resist indulging in a small smile at the sight of Sophie flouncing upstairs in disgust.

      A real live English lord and she had been rude to him!

      Marietta, on the other hand, had not enjoyed herself so much in years. She refused to admit to herself that it was Mr Jack Dilhorne whom she particularly wished to see again.

      The brothers and Charles walked back to the British Envoy’s office along Washington’s filthy and unpaved streets. There had been a fall of rain earlier in the day and the three of them were amused to see the heavy wagons, drawn by mules, struggling in the thick mud. However magnificent Washington was going to be in the future, when its buildings and boulevards were finally completed, at the moment it was a ramshackle and sketchy town. The Capitol, high upon the Hill, dominated everything, as it dominated Washington’s social and political life.

      The dirty streets were crowded with people. Alan had been told that all the Southerners and Southern sympathisers had earlier left in droves once war seemed to be imminent. They had been replaced by a mass of office seekers and entrepreneurs determined to make a good thing out of the coming conflict.

      ‘To say nothing of the military and naval presence,’ Charles said. ‘I like the plain Miss Hope,’ he added reflectively, ‘but I think little of the pretty cousin. She has no regard for others’ feelings.’

      Jack had been thinking this himself, and was saddened by it. He had met Sophie on a number of occasions without Marietta being present, and had been greatly attracted by her looks and charm. She had spoken often and dismissively of Marietta, so he had assumed that she must be an unpleasant, middle-aged harridan, there