Witness to the Deed - BestLightNovel.com
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"Then I must speak plainly, old fellow. For a year before they went out to Switzerland we were there a great deal, and met them after."
Guest nodded and his pipe did not seem to draw.
"We have met them often during these three months that they have been back."
Guest laughed and struck a match. His pipe was out.
"Well, have you not seen anything?"
"Yes," said Guest huskily.
"I felt that you must have seen it, old fellow. I have no secrets from you. I have loved her from the first time I saw her at Miss Jerrold's, and it has gone on growing till at times I have been almost in despair.
For how could I speak, poor and hard up as I was--just a student, earning two or three hundred a year?"
"Always seemed attentive enough," said Guest, looking away as his friend paced the room with growing excitement.
"Perhaps; but I have schooled myself to hide it all, and to act as a gentleman should toward Sir Mark. It would have been dishonourable to act otherwise than as an ordinary friend of the family."
"I suppose so," said Guest dismally. "And now?"
"My position is changed. Poverty does not bar the way, and, feeling this, I cannot trust myself. I cannot go and meet her to-morrow evening at her aunt's without seeing the admiral first, and speaking out to him like a man."
"And--and--you really--care for her so much, old fellow?" said Guest hoa.r.s.ely, and still in trouble with his pipe, which refused to draw.
"Care for her--so much!" exclaimed Stratton, flus.h.i.+ng.
"And she?"
"How can I tell? I can only hope. I think she--no, it sounds presumptuous, but I must tempt my fate."
"And if the lady--"
"Refuses me--the admiral does not approve?"
"Yes. What then?"
"I must try and bear it like a man."
There was a few minutes' silence, though it only seemed a moment, when Guest spoke again in a curiously changed tone of voice.
"But about that Mr Barron, Stratton?"
"Yes; what about him?"
"He is a good deal at Sir Mark's, isn't he?"
"Yes; a friend the old gentleman picked up abroad--yachting, I think."
"You don't think that he has any intentions?"
"That Mr Barron? No; such an idea never crossed my mind. Absurd! He is quite a middle-aged man, I hear; I've not seen him. He is no favourite either of old Miss Jerrold. But what's the matter? Going?"
"Eh? Yes, I'm going now. You won't come out, old fellow, and I thought we'd put off the congratulatory dinner till another day."
"Yes, we will. I'm awfully sorry, Percy; don't take it ill of me."
"No, no; of course not."
"And--and I'll communicate with you about to-morrow night. Though, if I don't go, that is no reason why you should not."
"No, of course--that is--," faltered Guest, looking at his friend strangely. "Good-bye, old fellow. You are going to the admiral's to-night?"
"No, I'll go this afternoon. He may be off out to dinner. Wish me luck, old fellow."
"Yes," said Guest slowly, "I wish you luck. I was afraid so," he said slowly, as he descended the stairs, looking careworn and wretched. "I ought to have known better. They were always together, and she likes him. Oh! I could break his neck. No, I couldn't. I'm only a fool, I suppose, for liking him. I've always been as if I was her dog. One's own and only friend to come between. Oh, what a crooked world it is!
Round? Bos.h.!.+ It's no shape at all, or it would have been evenly balanced and fair. Good-bye, little Edie; you'll jump at him, of course. He's worth half a dozen of such poor, weak-minded beggars as I am; but I loved you very dearly indeed, indeed. I shan't go and make a hole in the water, little one, all the same. I wonder, though, whether an enterprising young barrister would have any chance in Fiji or the Caroline Isles? I'll ask someone who knows."
Percy Guest went back to his chambers in Grey's Inn, and about half-past three a cab set down Malcolm Stratton at the admiral's door.
CHAPTER NINE.
"TOO LATE!"
"Sir Mark at home, Andrews?" said Stratton as the door was opened by the butler.
"Yes, sir. Mr Barron's with him, but of course he'll see you. Will you step up in the drawing room? Only the young ladies there."
"No, thanks," said Stratton hurriedly. "Ask Sir Mark if he will see me or make some appointment. Where is he?"
"In the library, sir."
"Mr Barron with him," thought Stratton as the butler showed him into the dining room and closed the door. "Wonder what he is like. Oh!
impossible. How easily a man can be jealous."
As he stood looking up at the portrait of a lady--Myra's mother--he fancied he heard steps in the hall, and directly after the butler entered.
"Sir Mark will see you, sir," said the butler.
"But Mr Barron is there?"
"No, sir, just gone up to join the ladies."
Stratton winced, and the next moment was shown into the library.
"Ah, Malcolm Stratton," cried the admiral bluntly. "Come in, my dear boy. How are you? Glad you've called. My friend Mr Barron was here.
I wanted to introduce you two. Travelled much, but he's chary of making new friends. You'll like him, though, I'm sure. Wonderful fellow at the management of a yacht, and a magnificent swimmer. Why, I believe that man, sir, could swim for miles."