His Official Fiancée
No, I couldn’t stand that! There seemed only one thing in the world for me to do. “I’m forced into it,” I thought rapidly, “so here goes.”

I touched Mr. Waters’s sleeve, murmuring:

“Please wait a moment.”

He stopped, looking down at me inquiringly. I turned, smiling, to that slim, expensively-gowned figure of outraged propriety at the other table. I accosted her as if I thought she had not seen me.

“Lady Vandeleur, don’t you know me?”

My own voice sounded strangely artificial in my ears, but, thank goodness, it was steady enough, with every syllable distinct.

“Will you allow me to introduce Mr. Waters, my fiancé?”

There! It was said!

[58]

[58]

Transformation scene upon that carefully-preserved face at the table! Gone, vanished, was the icy displeasure. A radiant smile, a gracious bow to the imperturbable Mr. Waters met my announcement. An effusive clasp of both my own hands.

“My dear child, what surprising, what delightful news! How glad I am for you,” cooed Lady Vandeleur.

How glad she was for herself—glad to think that a hopelessly ineligible girl, for whom Sydney had always displayed a regrettable weakness, was now safely out of harm’s way—and his!

Her gratification at this made her quite as affectionate as she had been in the days when the Trant family was still worth marrying into.

“So long since we heard anything of you, you naughty child! But this quite makes up. Yes, we were away; but there were alterations in our plans”—with a quick gesture, a quick glance, towards the pretty débutante opposite to her, evidently her latest “plan” for Sydney. “Now we are back in town for the season. The old address, you know, in Belgrave Square. Wednesday is my afternoon. Now, promise you will come and see us. A ‘soon’ Wednesday, mind! Do bring your fiancé!”

“I shall be delighted.” It was 
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