"Who is this young Mr. Brooks?" she asked, pausing to chalk her cue.
"A solicitor from Medchester," he answered. "He was Parliamentary agent
for Henslow, and I am going to give him a management of my estates."
"He is quite a boy," she remarked.
"Twenty-six or seven," he answered. "How well you play those cannons.
"I ought to. I had lessons for years. Is he a native of Medchester?"
Lord Arranmore was blandly puzzled. She finished her stroke and turned
towards him.
"Mr. Brooks, you know. We were talking of him."
"Of course we were," he answered. "I do not think so. He is an orphan.
I met his father in Canada."
"He reminds me of some one," she remarked, in a puzzled tone. "Just now
as I was coming downstairs it was almost startling. He is a
good-looking boy."
"Be careful not to foul," he admonished her. "You should have the
spider-rest."
Lady Caroom made a delicate cannon from an awkward place, and concluded
her break in silence. Then she leaned with her back against the table,
chalking her cue. Her figure was still the figure of a girl she was a
remarkably pretty woman.
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