Page:These Old Shades (Heyer 1927).pdf/112

Lady Fanny Marling reposing on a settee, found life monotonous. She pushed away the book of poems, over which she had been yawning, and started to play with one golden curl that had strayed over her shoulder and lay glistening on the lace of her wrapper. She was en déshabillé, her fair hair unpowdered, and loosely dressed beneath a Mechlin cap whose blue ribands were tied under her chin in a coquettish bow. She wore a blue taffeta gown, with a broad fichu about her perfect shoulders, and as the room in which she sat was furnished in gold and blue and white she had reason to be pleased with herself and her setting. She was pleased, but she would have liked it better had there been some one with her to share the aesthetic pleasure. So when she heard the clang of her front-door bell her china blue eyes brightened, and she stretched out her hand for her mirror.

In a few minutes her black page tapped upon the door. She put the mirror down, and turned her head to look at him.

Pompey grinned and bobbed his woolly head.

"Genelman to see ma'am!"

"His name?" she asked.

A soft voice spoke from behind the page.

"His name, my dear Fanny, is Avon. I am fortunate to find you at home."

Fanny shrieked, clapped her hands, and flew up to greet him.

"Justin! You! Oh, how prodigiously delightful!" She would not permit him to kiss her finger-tips, but flung her arms about his neck, and embraced him. "I declare, 'tis an