A Plucky Girl Part 45

"Why, of course not," he replied, and a frightened look came for the first time into his blue eyes. He turned and faced me.

"Of course not," he repeated, his eyes still devouring mine; "but Westenra cares for n.o.body, I never saw a girl less of a flirt in the whole course of my life. It is not to be supposed that such a very pretty girl should not have men fall in love with her, but that is neither here nor there."

"You ask her yourself," said the d.u.c.h.ess; "I think from your face that you seem a very honest good sort of man; you are a publisher, are you not?"

"Yes, Madam, I publish books, bright, entertaining books too."

"I repeat that you seem a very honest upright sort of man, who sincerely loves my young friend, and honestly wishes to do his best for her, but I think you will find that there is more behind the scenes than you are aware of, and, in short, that Westenra ought to tell you the truth. Tell him the truth now, Westenra."

"Yes, tell me now, Westenra," he said; "tell me the truth;" and he faced me once more, and I forced myself to look into his eyes.

"I know you don't love me just yet," he continued, "but it will come some day."

"I will do my very best to love you," I answered; "I will try to be a good wife to you, Albert."

"Ay, ay--how sweetly you say those words. May I hold your hand?"

I gave him my hand--he held it as he always did hold it, as if it were something very precious and sacred, letting it lie in his palm, and looking down at it as if it were a sort of white wonder to him.

"But ask her the question," said her Grace, and then I glanced at the d.u.c.h.ess and saw that her cheeks were pink with excitement, and her eyes s.h.i.+ning; "ask her that straight, straight question on which all your happiness depends, Mr. Fanning."

"I will, your Grace. You do not love me, Westenra, but you will try to be a good wife to me, and you will try to love me, that is, in the future. There is no one else whom you love now, is there? I know, of course, what your reply will be, darling, and it is a hard question to ask of you, as though I doubted you. There is no one, is there, Westenra? Speak, little girl, don't be afraid, there is no one?"

"But there is," I faltered. I covered my face for a moment, then I checked back my tears and looked at him as steadily as he had looked at me.

"There is another," he repeated, "and you--you love him? Who is he?"

"I won't tell you his name. I shall get over it. I could not help myself--I promised to marry you, but I never said that I could love you, for I don't--not now at least, and there is another, but I will never see him again. It won't make any difference to you, Albert."

"Yes, but it will," he said, "all the difference on earth." He dropped my hand as though it hurt him. He turned and faced the d.u.c.h.ess.

"I suppose you are talking of Mr. Randolph. I quite understand, he belongs to the set in which she was born, but he deserted her when she wanted him most. It can scarcely be that she cares for him. There, I don't want either of you to tell me his name just now. I have heard enough for the present."

He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

THE END CROWNS ALL

"I have done it now," said the d.u.c.h.ess, "G.o.d knows what will be the consequence, but I have at least delivered my soul."

She had scarcely uttered the words before Albert Fanning strode back into the room. He was not the least awkward now, he looked quite manly and dignified.

"Will you oblige me," he said, looking straight at the d.u.c.h.ess, "by giving me the address of Mr. James Randolph?"

"You are not going to do anything," I cried, springing up, "oh, you are not going to say anything? This has been forced out of me, and I have not mentioned any one's name."

"I will do nothing to hurt you, dear," he said very gently, and he looked at me again, and putting his hand on mine forced me quietly back into my seat. Then he turned to the d.u.c.h.ess, waiting for her to give him what he required.

Her face was very white, and her lips tremulous. She tore a sheet out of her little gold-mounted note-book, which always hung at her side, scribbled a few words on it, and handed it to him.

"I am dreadfully sorry to hurt you, you must believe that," she said.

He did not make any response. He bowed to her and then left the room.

"What does it mean? This is terrible," I cried.

The d.u.c.h.ess looked at me.

"Will you come home with me, Westenra? it is best for you," she said.

"Come and spend the rest of the day with me."

"No, I cannot," I answered; "I must stay here. Albert may come back again. There is no saying what mischief you have done. I cannot think, I am too miserable, too anxious. Oh, suppose he goes to see Mr.

Randolph, and suppose, suppose he tells him."

"I believe in his heart that man is a gentleman. Even if you marry him I shall not be quite so unhappy as I would have been," was the d.u.c.h.ess's next speech, and then seeing that I was not inclined to say anything more she left the room.

I do not know how the rest of the day pa.s.sed. From the quiet of despair my mind was suddenly roused to a perfect whirl of anxiety, and I could not think consecutively. I could plan nothing, I could hope nothing, but it seemed to me that my journey to Switzerland was indefinitely postponed, and that my future from being settled in every detail, month, week, hour, and all, was as indefinite and vague and shadowy as though I were standing on the brink of the other world.

Jasmine entered the room at tea-time and asked me what was the matter.

I replied that I had nothing at all fresh to tell her, for I felt that she must never know what the d.u.c.h.ess had told Albert Fanning. She gazed at me as I spoke as though I were a source of irritation to her, and then said that my stepping down had changed me so absolutely that she was not sure whether I was a nice girl any longer, and whether, after all, the fate of being Albert Fanning's wife was not the best fate for me. Then I said stoutly--

"Albert Fanning is one of the best men in the world, and I am fortunate to be left in such good care." Jasmine got really angry and offended then, and went out of the room. She presently came back to ask me, if I would mind dining alone, as she and Henry wished to spend their last evening with some friends. I said that, of course, I did not mind. In reality I was very glad.

Jasmine went out, and I was again alone. How I hated the house; how I hated the dreary, and yet beautifully-furnished drawing-room; how the heat oppressed me, and seemed to take away the remainder of my strength! I wondered if it were true, that I was only two-and-twenty, just on the verge of womanhood. I felt quite old, and I stretched out my arms, and gave a dreary sigh; and felt that the sadness of youth was just as _great_ as the sadness of age; and that one of its most painful moments was the knowledge that, in the ordinary course of life, I was so far from the end. Yes, I was young, and I must bear my burden, and I was strong too; and there was no chance under any ordinary circ.u.mstances of my not living out the full measure of my years.

Just before dinner the drawing-room door was again opened, and Albert Fanning for the third time that day made his appearance. He looked quite brisk, and bright, and like his usual self, except that in some extraordinary way his awkwardness and self-consciousness had completely left him; he was evidently absorbed with some business on hand, which made him a new man for the time.

"Will you come for a walk with me, Westenra?" he asked gravely.

"What, now?" I inquired in some surprise and trepidation.

"Yes," he answered, "or, at least, I want you to drive with me now, and to walk with me afterwards. I have a great desire that we should spend this evening together; and I fancy, somehow, that you won't deny me. I have a carriage outside; I bought it for you, yesterday, a smart little victoria. I will drive you to Richmond, and we can dine there.

You will come, won't you, dear?"

I paused to think, then I said, just as gravely as he had addressed me--

"Yes, I'll come."

"That is nice," he remarked, rubbing his hands, "we'll have a good time, little girl. We won't mind what the d.u.c.h.ess said; we'll have a right, good, jolly time, you and I."

"Of course," I answered. I went up to my room, dressed, and came down again.

"I am ready now," I said.