Choose the One You'll Marry by Mary Burchell Page A

very varied people into a harmonious whole. But Angus is really clever at that sort of thing.” And the slightly deepened note in her voice paid tribute to Angus’s gifts.
    “I’m sure he is.” There was no deepening note in Michael’s voice. “How does Charmian fit into things? Did you and she make friends with each other?”
    Ruth wanted to say that Charmian was not the sort of girl who made friends with other girls. But remembering that it was neither polite nor kind to speak slightingly to a man about someone he admired, she swallowed, smiled and said, “There wasn’t much opportunity to get together. Most of the time we were in the studio with several other people. And of course she’s a real pro, while I’m very much an amateur.”
    “Is the dividing line drawn so very sharply, then?” he inquired amusedly.
    “It is rather,” said Ruth, thinking how sharply Charmian had drawn it.
    “But all the same—you might cross it?” he suggested.
    “I?” Ruth was genuinely astonished. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve done quite well on the two occasions Angus wanted to use me, but there really hasn’t been much to it, you know, except speaking clearly, moving reasonably well and managing to look pleasant and not unintelligent.”
    “Couldn’t that be developed very usefully into something more?”
    “No. I don’t think so.” Ruth thought for a moment of what Flossie had said, and smiled. “Everyone is very nice and complimentary. But I can’t think that there aren’t a great many girls who could have done just as well, given the opportunity. It just happened that Angus knew me.” He laughed at that and looked amused again.
    “You have a most refreshingly commonsense outlook, Ruth,” he said. “I believe that’s half your attraction.”
    She seemed to remember Angus saying something similar. Only, being Angus, he had put it in a way that thrilled one more.
    “All the same,” he went on, “if you did have a chance to go further—I mean, if there were a real opening—”
    He paused, and Ruth said eagerly, “Yes?”
    “I think Aunt Henrietta would be very glad to help you.”
    “Aunt Henrietta?” Ruth immediately felt uncomfortable. “But—how could she help me?”
    “I suppose—financially.”
    “Oh, but I wouldn’t want that,” Ruth exclaimed. “I mean—it wouldn’t be necessary, anyway. I have a good job and a family—and anyway, I haven’t any ambitions to go further with this television business.”
    “No?” He seemed unimpressed by her vehemence. “Then that settles it, of course.”
    “Did she—say anything to you about this?” Ruth inquired.
    “Yes, she did, as a matter of fact. Last night—when I was taking her home. She seemed to think that, as a result of this contact with Angus Everto n , you might be offered some opening. But that possibly you would need training of some sort—and that there might be an awkward period when you had left one job but were not quite ready for the new one. In such circumstances, I think she would be very glad to help.”
    “It’s most awfully kind of her.” Ruth hoped she had not sounded ungracious before. “But really the occasion won’t arise.”
    “Then there’s no need to worry about it further.” He looked at her slightly flushed face, half puzzled, half amused. “Do you dislike the idea very much?”
    “Why, n-no. I mean—yes. Oh, that sounds dreadfully ungrateful. But—it makes me uncomfortable, I think. Aunt Henrietta is almost too generous, considering that she’s virtually a stranger. I don’t really know why she should want to spend her money on me.”
    “I think,” he said equably, “ that Aunt Henrietta is a very lonely, very affectionate woman. She actually likes to have someone to spend her money on.”
    “ Then she’d better spend it on you,” Ruth retorted quickly. “At least you’re her nephew.”
    Or was he, she thought in agitated parentheses.
    “I don’t need it,” he explained with a