Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 59

"And how do you do, Miss Rolfe? I hope your health has not suffered in this close London of ours. May I say that there are no signs of such an ill result in your face?"

Una gave him her hand, and smiled at him in her quiet, grave way.

"I am very well, thank you," she said.

"That's right," said Stephen--"that's right!"

And he stood and looked from one to the other, rubbing his white, soft hands, and smiling as if he were over-running with the milk of human kindness.

Meanwhile Mrs. Davenant had risen, and was fluttering about nervously.

"Have you dined, Stephen? We can get some dinner, or--or something directly."

"My dear mother, I dined at my rooms two hours ago; but if you have a cup of tea, now; but don't trouble--it does not matter in the slightest."

Fresh tea was brought in, and Una, as usual, officiated. Stephen, leaning over a chair-back, talked to Jack and Mrs. Davenant, but his eyes turned continually on the graceful figure and the beautiful profile; and not one of them guessed the rage and fury which boiled and simmered under his calm and amiable exterior.

Already, as if some one had told him, he knew that Una had been out into the world. Her dress, her manner told him that; and while he smiled lovingly at his mother, he was crying out inwardly:

"Fool! fool! to trust Una to her."

He took his cup of tea, his hand as steady as a rock, and chatted with Jack, full of the pleasantest interest.

Where had he been, and what had he been doing? and was he in those eccentric but charming rooms of his in the Temple still? and how was his friend Leonard Dagle?

He was full of questions, questions which Jack answered in his curt, brief fas.h.i.+on. And all the while Stephen was weighing the situation, realizing all its danger and peril, and determining on a course of action.

"Just one more cup, Miss Rolfe, if you please. Tea is my favorite beverage--I am quite an old washerwoman!"

Then he took his cup, and sat down beside her.

"Yes," he said, not in a particularly low tone, but in his softest manner--"yes, I am glad to see that your health has not suffered in London. I trust you have been happy?"

Una looked up with a faint flush on her face.

"I have been--I am very, very happy," she said, and Jack's face flushed too with the delight at the accent on "I am."

"That is right," said Stephen, with the air of an old, old friend, "and I hope my mother has found some amus.e.m.e.nt for you--that she has shown you something of the great world."

"Yes," said Una, and she glanced at Mrs. Davenant, from whose pale face all traces of the calm serenity which had reigned there during the earlier part of the evening had entirely fled--"yes, I have been very gay--is not that the word? I have been to a ball, and to a picnic, and have seen all the sights."

"And where was the ball?"

"At Lady Earlsley's," said Una.

Stephen opened his eyes and smiled.

"My dear Miss Rolfe, you have penetrated the most exclusive of social rings! Lady Earlsley's! Come, that is very satisfactory; and Jack--Jack is my cousin--well, very nearly cousin, you know, I hope he has made himself useful and agreeable?"

Una glanced shyly and gravely at Jack--a glance that told everything, even if Stephen had not seen her in Jack's arms.

"Yes," she said, in a low voice, "Mr. Newcombe has been very--kind."

Stephen smiled and showed all his teeth.

"I am afraid there will be nothing left for me to do," he said.

Then, in a lower voice, he added:

"You will be glad to hear that I have news of your father."

Una looked up breathlessly. The question had been hovering on her lips.

Stephen nodded.

"Yes, he wrote me from a place in Surrey called--tut--tut! The name has escaped me! They are quite well, and send their fondest love."

Una's eyes filled.

"Why did they leave the cottage so suddenly?" she said.

"Because your father wished for a change. I told you truth, you see, when I said that your departure would be good for him, and wean him from his seclusion."

"Why does he not come to see me?" asked Una.

"He is coming, my dear Una," said Stephen. "But at present he is very much engaged, and quite satisfied with my favorable report of your health and happiness. But come, I must not make you homesick. Were you not playing when I came in?"

Una flushed.

"Jack--Mr. Newcombe--was playing," she said; "I was singing."

"Pray don't let me interrupt you," said Stephen, genially, "or I shall feel like an intruder, and walk off again. Jack, go on with your music, my dear fellow."

But Jack declined promptly, though politely.

"I'm afraid I must be off," he said, looking at his watch, and then at Una, wistfully.

"Not yet," said Stephen. "I have a whole budget of news to tell you. I dare say you wonder why I haven't been up before this; but there was so much to do--a surprising deal."

Jack nodded curtly. He certainly didn't want to finish up this particular evening by hearing Stephen's talk of the Hurst.

"No doubt," he said. "You must come and dine with me and tell me.

Good-night, Mrs. Davenant!"

Mrs. Davenant gave him her hand.

"Must you go, Jack?" she said, tremulously. "You--you will come again?"