Marry a Stranger by Susan Barrie Page B

talked to her of Martin she had expected him to be much older. That he was not old—that he had so much quiet charm that it had pounded like a battery at her weak schoolgirlish defences and sent them completely endways—was something she had not been prepared for.
    And now he was asking her to marry him! That was something else she had not been prepared for, and which she could still not believe was true. Even though it was only because he was sorry for her—that he had some quixotic feeling that he ought to take her under his wing and be responsible for her, which was absurd, of course.
    And he had been married before! ...
    “Miss Hunt ... ?” she got out. “I thought that Miss Hunt — ”
    “Miss Hunt and I have been friends for years,” he informed her quietly. “Nothing more.”
    Was that true? she wondered. Could it be true? Certainly it was not a true description of Vera Hunt’s feelings for Dr. Guelder. She would have married him at any time if only he had asked her!
    “Perhaps I’d better explain,” he said, realizing that she was struggling in a sea of utter bewilderment, surprise and confused, wrong thinking. “As I told you just now I was married several years ago, when I was much younger than I am now, and although it only lasted for a short time, and terminated tragically, it did something to me which—has made it impossible for me ever to desire a completely normal marriage again! You’re young, but not so young, I hope, that you can’t understand what I mean? And in case you do misunderstand, perhaps I'd better put it a little more clearly. I want a wife who can act the part of a hostess for me, be a companion also, if that is what she would like as well. Someone to take over the running of my house in Herefordshire, and entertain weekend guests. Be friendly to my friends, interest herself in my affairs, study my interests. And in return I promise to look after her to the utmost of my ability, safeguard her interests, too. Would that sort of thing appeal to you?”
    Stacey felt almost as if a chill breath had descended over the happiness of the afternoon and robbed it of all warmth. The bewilderment inside her subsided and became a sensation like hollowness—for several seconds she could not speak. And then she said: “But do you think I am the right type? Do you think I could possibly rise to all that you would require of me? It’s true I often acted hostess for Daddy, but then our entertainments were never on a very ambitious scale, and I am not sophisticated.”
    He interrupted her by laughing in an amused way.
    “My dear child, have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror? You would look enchanting at the head of a dinner table! But, please, don’t get the idea into your head that I propose to do nothing else but entertain my friends, and put you to the strain of being endlessly charming to them. The very first thing I want to do is to get you thoroughly fit again, restore that attractive tan you had when I first saw you, and the one or two equally attractive freckles on the tip of your nose.” He smiled at her gently, teasingly. “It’s for you to say whether you can put up with me under the conditions I’ve named, or whether, having your youth in mind, you feel that you ought to wait patiently for Mr. Right, as he is often called, to come along? After all”—with sudden gravity—“youth has a right to quite a lot, and young people sometimes fall violently in love. ”
    “Never, never!” cried her heart silently, except with you!” For she knew now what it was that he had done to her. After only three meetings he had caused her to become his slave for life. She could never be more violently in love if she lived to be a hundred than she was at this moment—and it was with a man who had told her quite bluntly that he would never fall in love with her! If she married him she was to be his companion, someone to be charming to his friends, ease the path of the clever doctor