The Little Warrior | Page 9

said Derek impatiently. "Just after you left for Mentone.
Freddie Rooke introduced me."
"Oh, your intellectual friend Mr Rooke knows her?"
"They were children together. Her people lived next to the Rookes in
Worcestershire."
"I thought you said she was an American."

"I said her father was. He settled in England. Jill hasn't been in America
since she was eight or nine."
"The fact," said Lady Underhill, "that the girl is a friend of Mr Rooke is
no great recommendation."
Derek kicked angrily at a box of matches which someone had thrown
down on the platform.
"I wonder if you could possibly get it into your head, mother, that I
want to marry Jill, not engage her as an under-housemaid. I don't
consider that she requires recommendations, as you call them. However,
don't you think the most sensible thing is for you to wait till you meet
her at dinner tonight, and then you can form your own opinion? I'm
beginning to get a little bored with this futile discussion."
"As you seem quite unable to talk on the subject of this girl without
becoming rude," said Lady Underhill, "I agree with you. Let us hope
that my first impression will be a favorable one. Experience has taught
me that first impressions are everything."
"I'm glad you think so," said Derek, "for I fell in love with Jill the very
first moment I saw her!"
4.
Parker stepped back, and surveyed with modest pride the dinner-table
to which he had been putting the finishing touches. It was an artistic job
and a credit to him.
"That's that!" said Parker, satisfied.
He went to the window and looked out. The fog which had lasted well
into the evening, had vanished now, and the clear night was bright with
stars. A distant murmur of traffic came from the direction of Piccadilly.
As he stood there, the front-door bell rang, and continued to ring in
little spurts of sound. If character can be deduced from bell-ringing, as

nowadays it apparently can be from every other form of human activity,
one might have hazarded the guess that whoever was on the other side
of the door was determined, impetuous, and energetic.
"Parker!"
Freddie Rooke pushed a tousled head, which had yet to be brushed into
the smooth sleekness that made it a delight to the public eye, out of a
room down the passage.
"Sir?"
"Somebody ringing."
"I heard, sir. I was about to answer the bell."
"If it's Lady Underhill, tell her I'll be in in a minute."
"I fancy it is Miss Mariner, sir. I think I recognise her touch."
He made his way down the passage to the front-door, and opened it. A
girl was standing outside. She wore a long gray fur coat, and a filmy
gray hood covered her hair. As Parker opened the door, she scampered
in like a gray kitten.
"Brrh! It's cold!" she exclaimed. "Hullo, Parker!"
"Good evening, miss."
"Am I the last or the first or what?"
Parker moved to help her with her cloak.
"Sir Derek and her ladyship have not yet arrived, miss. Sir Derek went
to bring her ladyship from the Savoy Hotel. Mr Rooke is dressing in his
bedroom and will be ready very shortly."
The girl had slipped out of the fur coat, and Parker cast a swift glance
of approval at her. He had the valet's unerring eye for a thoroughbred,

and Jill Mariner was manifestly that. It showed in her walk, in every
move of her small, active body, in the way she looked at you, in the
way she talked to you, in the little tilt of her resolute chin. Her hair was
pale gold, and had the brightness of coloring of a child's. Her face
glowed, and her gray eyes sparkled. She looked very much alive.
It was this aliveness of hers that was her chief charm. Her eyes were
good and her mouth, with its small, even, teeth, attractive, but she
would have laughed if anybody had called her beautiful. She
sometimes doubted if she were even pretty. Yet few men had met her
and remained entirely undisturbed. She had a magnetism. One hapless
youth, who had laid his heart at her feet and had been commanded to
pick it up again, had endeavored subsequently to explain her attraction
(to a bosom friend over a mournful bottle of the best in the club
smoking-room) in these words: "I don't know what it is about her, old
man, but she somehow makes a feller feel she's so damned interested in
a chap, if you know what I mean." And, though not generally credited
in his circle with any great acuteness, there is no doubt that the speaker
had achieved something approaching a true analysis of Jill's fascination
for his