Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 60

"Most certainly I will," said Jack, significantly.

Una had risen and gone to the piano to gather up the music which Jack, with his usual untidiness, had scattered about.

He followed her, and knelt down as if to help her.

"Good-night, my darling!" he murmured, touching her arm caressingly.

"Don't be afraid."

Una raised her arm and touched it with her lips.

"Afraid--of whom?"

"Of--n.o.body!" said Jack, rather ungrammatically.

"Not of Mr. Davenant, who has been so kind?" she whispered, with a surprised look.

Jack bit his lip.

"No, no; certainly not. Oh, yes, he has been kind."

Then with a long, loving look into her sweet face he crossed the room.

"Good-night, Stephen."

"You are really going? Well, then, I'll go with you," said Stephen.

"Mother will not mind my running away tonight, I am rather tired."

And he stooped and kissed her, and went to the door.

It almost seemed as if he had forgotten Una; but he turned suddenly and held out his hand, a bland, benevolent smile on his pale face.

"Good-night, good-night," he murmured, softly, and followed after Jack, who, the moment he reached the pavement, looked out for a hansom; but Stephen linked his arm in Jack's, and said:

"Are you in a hurry, my dear Jack? If not, I'll walk a little way with you; or will you come toward my rooms?"

Jack consented to the latter course, by turning in the direction of the "Albany" in silence.

He felt that Stephen was playing a part--why or wherefore he could not guess--and now that he had recovered from his surprise at Stephen's sudden appearance, his old mistrust and dislike were returning to him.

They walked on in silence for some few moments, then Stephen said:

"I wanted to have a few words with you, my dear Jack. I should have written, but I felt that I could make myself understood better by word of mouth."

Jack nodded.

"Of course, what I have to say concerns my poor uncle's death and its consequences."

Jack was silent still. He would not help him in the slightest.

"I cannot but feel that those consequences, while they have been distinctly beneficial to me, have--and to put it plainly, and I wish to speak plainly, my dear Jack--have been unfortunate for you."

"Well," said Jack, grimly.

"Well," said Stephen, softly, "I had hoped, I still hope, that you will allow me the happiness of setting right, to some extent, the wrong--yes, I will say wrong--done you by my uncle's will."

"That's impossible," said Jack, gravely.

"But, my dear Jack, why not? It is my right. Have you any idea of the fortune----"

"Not the slightest," said Jack, breaking in abruptly, "and it's no business of mine; large or small, I hope you'll enjoy it. It was the squire's to do as he liked with, and I suppose he did as he liked; and there's an end of it."

Stephen winced and bit his lip.

"And now," said Jack, quietly, but with his heart beating wildly, "I want a word with you, Stephen."

"Say on, my dear Jack. If there is anything I can do for you----"

"Yes, there is," said Jack. "I want to know--I want you to tell me--something respecting Miss Rolfe."

"Miss Rolfe!" said Stephen, softly.

"Yes," continued Jack. "You'll want to know, before I go any further, on what grounds I ask for information. I'll tell you. I have asked Miss Rolfe to be my wife."

Stephen feigned a start of astonishment.

"My dear Jack, isn't that rather sudden--rather premature?"

"It may be sudden, I don't know whether it is premature; that's for Miss Rolfe to decide. And she has decided."

Stephen moistened his lips; they burned like coals.

"She has accepted you?"

"She has," said Jack, who felt reluctant to utter one word more than was necessary.

Stephen pulled up and held out his hand.

"My dear Jack, I congratulate you. I congratulate you," he exclaimed, fervently. "You are indeed a happy man."

Jack, confounded, allowed his hand to be wrung by the soft, white palm that burned hot and dry.

"You are a lucky fellow, my dear Jack. Miss Rolfe is one in a thousand.

I question if there is a more beautiful girl in London--and her disposition. You are indeed a lucky fellow."

"Thanks, thanks!" said Jack, still overwhelmed by this flood of good will. "And now, perhaps you will tell me what I had better do in the affair! You see I find her visiting--settled, rather, at your mother's house, and neither she nor your mother seem to know why or wherefore----"

Stephen interrupted him with a pressure of the arm.

"I understand, my dear Jack; your anxiety for information is only natural. I am very glad I came up this evening--very glad! And now, as I feel rather tired, would you mind coming up to my rooms? and we'll have a hansom, after all."