A True Friend Part 37

If his heart had been throbbing and his head burning as Janetta's were just then, he might have known how to answer the question.

"You have come for Julian, I suppose?" she said, a little coldly.

"Yes--in a minute or two. Won't you let me rest for a few minutes after my walk in the broiling sun?"

"Oh, certainly; you shall have some tea, if you like. I am at liberty this afternoon," said Janetta, with a little malice, "as my pupil has just sent me word that she has a headache, and cannot come."

"Who is your pupil this afternoon?" said Wyvis, stroking his black moustache.

"Miss Adair."

He gave her a quick, keen glance, then turned away. She read vexation in his eyes.

"Don't let me trouble you," he said, in a different tone, as she moved towards the door; "I really ought not to stay--I have an engagement or two to fulfill. No tea, thanks. Is Julian ready?"

"In a minute or two I will call him. I want to ask you a question first--if you will let me?"

"All right; go on. That's the way people begin disagreeable subjects, do you know?"

"I don't know whether you will consider this a disagreeable question. I suppose you will," said Janetta, with an effort. "I promised you once to say nothing to my friends about your affairs--about Julian's mother, and I have kept my word. But I must ask you now--does Miss Adair know that you are married?"

There was a moment's pause. They stood opposite one another, and, lifting her eyes to his face, she saw that he was frowning heavily and gnawing his moustache.

"What does that matter to _you_?" he said, angrily, at last.

She shrank a little, but answered steadily--

"Margaret is my friend."

"Well, what then?"

The color rose to Janetta's face. "I don't believe you knew what you were doing yesterday," she said; "but I knew--I heard people talking, and I knew what people thought. They said that you were paying attention to Miss Adair. They supposed you were going to marry her soon. None of them seemed to know that--that--your wife was still alive. And of course I could not tell them."

"Of course not," he a.s.sented, with curious eagerness; "I knew you would keep your word."

"You made Margaret conspicuous," Janetta continued, with some warmth.

"You placed her in a very false position. If _she_ thinks, as other people thought, that you want to marry her, she ought to be told the truth at once. You must tell her--yourself--that you were only amusing yourself--only playing with her, as no man has a right to play with a girl," said Janetta, with such vehemence that the tears rose to her great dark eyes and the scarlet color to her cheeks--"that you were flirting, in fact, and that Julian's mother--_your wife_, Cousin Wyvis--is still alive."

CHAPTER XXVI.

"FREE!"

"And what if I refuse to tell her this?" said Wyvis Brand.

"Then I shall tell her myself."

"And break your word to me?"

"And break my word."

He stood looking at her for a minute in silence, and then an ironical smile curled his lip as he turned aside.

"Women are all alike," he said. "They cannot possibly hold their tongues. I thought _you_ were superior to most of your s.e.x. I remember that your father once spoke of you to me as 'his faithful Janet.' Is this your faithfulness?"

"Yes, it is, it is," she cried; and then, sitting down, she suddenly burst into tears. She was unnerved and agitated, and so she wept, as girls will weep--for nothing at all sometimes, and sometimes in the very crisis of their fate.

Wyvis looked on, uncomprehending, a little touched, though rather against his will, by Janetta's tears. He knew that she did not often cry. He waited for the paroxysm to pa.s.s--waited grimly, but with "compunctuous visitings." And presently he was rewarded for his patience. She dried her eyes, lifted up her head, and spoke.

"I don't know why I should make such a fool of myself," she said. "I suppose it was because you mentioned my father. Yes, he used to call me his faithful Janet very often. I have always tried--to--to _deserve_ that name."

"Forgive me, Janetta," said her cousin, more moved than he liked to appear. "I did not want to hurt you; but, indeed, my dear girl, you must let me manage my affairs for myself. You are not responsible for Margaret Adair as you were for Nora; and you can't, you know, bring me to book as you did my brother, Cuthbert."

"You mean that I interfere too much in other people's business?" said poor Janetta, with quivering lips.

"I did not say so. I only say, '_Don't_ interfere.'"

"It is very hard to do right," said Janetta, looking at him with wistful eyes. "One's duty seems so divided. Margaret is not my sister--that is true, but she is my friend; and I always believed that one had responsibilities and duties towards friends as well as towards relations."

"Possibly"--in a very dry tone. "But you need not meddle with what is no concern of yours."

"It is my concern, if you--my cousin--are not acting rightly to my friend."

"I say it is no concern of yours at all."

They had come to a deadlock. He faced her, with the dark, haughty, imperious look which she knew so well upon his fine features; she stood silent, angry too, and almost as imperious. But, womanlike, she yielded first.

"You asked me once to be your friend, Cousin Wyvis. I want to be yours and Margaret's too. Won't you let me see what you mean?"

Wyvis Brand's brow relaxed a little.

"I don't understand your views of friends.h.i.+p: it seems to mean a right to intermeddle with all the affairs of your acquaintances," he said, cuttingly; "but since you are so good as to ask my intentions----"

"If you talk like that, I'll never speak to you again!" cried Janetta, who was not remarkable for her meekness.

Wyvis actually smiled.

"Come," he said, "be friends, Janetta. I a.s.sure you I don't mean any harm. You must not be straight-laced. Your pretty friend is no doubt well able to take care of herself."

But he looked down as he said this and knitted his brows.

"She has never had occasion to do it," said Janetta, epigrammatically.

"Then don't you think it is time she learns?"