A Plucky Girl by L.T. Meade — Read

Mr. Fanning followed us upstairs after dinner. I greatly hoped that he was the sort of man who would not often frequent the drawing-room, but I soon perceived my mistake. He not only entered that apartment, but attached himself as soon as possible to my side. He was beyond doubt the most disagreeable boarder we had yet secured. Indeed, Mrs. and Miss Armstrong were delightful compared to him. I now saw Miss Armstrong glance two or three times both at him and me, and rising deliberately, I crossed the room, and with a motion of my hand, asked him to accompany me. I then introduced him to that young lady. She blushed when I did so, and bridled a little. She did not evidently think him at all objectionable. I went back immediately to my seat near mother, and could scarcely suppress a feeling of pleasure at Mr. Fanning's too evident discomfiture.

I generally sang a couple of songs in the evening, and I was asked, as usual, to do so to-night. My voice was a rather sweet mezzo soprano, and I had been well taught. I sat down before the piano, as usual. When Mr. Randolph was in the room he always came and turned the pages of my music for me, but he was not present this evening, although he had dined with us; he had evidently gone out immediately afterwards. Now a voice sounded in my ears. I turned, and saw the objectionable and irrepressible Mr. Fanning.