Witness to the Deed Part 16

"But, confound you, I did, sir. What the devil do you mean by blundering out such a lame tale as that?"

"Want me, uncle dear?" said Edie, entering the room.

"No, no, my dear. Run along upstairs. You're not wanted. I have business with Mr Stratton here."

Edie darted a frightened glance from the choleric, flushed countenance of her uncle to Stratton's, which was almost white.

"Oh, poor Mr Stratton," she thought as she drew back. "Then he did not know before."

The door closed, and Sir Mark turned upon Stratton fiercely.

"Why, confound you, sir!" he began; but the despairing face before him was disarming. "No, no," he cried, calming down; "no use to get in a pa.s.sion about it. Poor lad! poor lad!" he muttered. Then aloud: "You were speaking, then, of Myra--my daughter--all the time?"

"Yes." Only that word in a despondent tone, for he could read rejection in every line of the old sailor's face.

"But I always thought--oh, what a confounded angle. This is not men's work. Why isn't Rebecca here? Mr Stratton, this is all a horrible blunder. Surely Myra--my daughter--never encouraged you to hope?"

"Never, sir; but I did hope and believe. Let me see her, Sir Mark. I thought I was explicit, but we have been playing at cross purposes.

Yes; ask Miss Jerrold to see me here--in your presence. Surely it is not too late to remedy such a terrible mistake."

"But it is too late, Mr Stratton; and really I don't think I could ever have agreed to such an engagement, even if my child had been willing."

"Sir Mark!" pleaded Stratton.

"For Heaven's sake, let's bring it to an end, sir. I never imagined such a thing. Why, man, then all the time you were making friends with one cousin, so as to get her on your side."

"I don't know--was I?" said Stratton dejectedly.

"Of course, sir. Acting the timid lover with the old result!" cried Sir Mark angrily.

Stratton gazed excitedly in his face; there was so much meaning in his words.

"There," continued the admiral; "but it must come, sir, and you must bear it like a man. My child, Myra, has accepted my friend Mr Barron, and the marriage is to take place almost at once."

Stratton stood for a few moments gazing in Sir Mark's face, as if he failed to grasp the full tenor of his words. Then, turning slowly, and without a word, he left the room, walked back to his quaint, panelled chambers, and hid his despair from the eyes of man.

CHAPTER TEN.

AN UNOPENED BUD.

Myra Jerrold stood looking very calm and statuesque, with James Barron holding her hand.

"Yes," he said, "I am going now, but only for a few hours. I cannot live away from you. Only a fortnight now, Myra, and then good-bye to cold England. I take you to a land of beauty, of sunny skies, and joy and love."

"Can any land be as beautiful as that which holds one's home?" she said.

"No," replied Barron quickly, "but that will be your home."

"Trinidad," said Myra thoughtfully; "so many thousand miles away."

"Bah! what are a few thousand miles now? A journey in a floating hotel to a place where you can telegraph to your father's door--instantaneous messages, and receive back the replies."

"But still so far," said Myra dreamily.

"Try and drive away such thoughts, dearest," whispered Barron. "I shall be there. And besides, Sir Mark will run over and see us; and Edith, too, with her husband."

Myra's manner changed. The dreaminess pa.s.sed away and she looked quickly in her betrothed's eyes.

"Yes, I always thought so," he said merrily. "'Tis love that makes the world go round. That Mr Stratton, your old friend, is below. Don't you understand?"

"No," said Myra quietly, "not quite."

"I think you do, dearest," he said, trying to pa.s.s his arm round her, but she shrank gently away.

"Very well," he said, kissing her hand, "I can wait. You will not always be so cold. Mr Stratton came to see your father on business, looking the lover from head to foot. I was sent up to you, and soon after our dear little Edie is summoned to the library. Come, don't look so innocent, darling. You do understand."

"That Mr Stratton has come to propose for Edie's hand?"

"Of course."

Myra's brow contracted a little, and there was a puzzled look in her eyes as she said gently:

"Yes, he has been very attentive to her often. Well, I like Mr Stratton very much, Mr Barron."

"James," he said reproachfully.

"James," she said, as if repeating a lesson, in a dreamy tone, and her eyes were directed toward the door.

"I like him, too, now that I am quite safe. There was a time, dear, when I first came here, and had my doubts. I fancied a rival in Mr Stratton."

"A rival?" she said, starting and colouring. "Yes; but so I did in any man who approached you, dearest. But there never was anything--the slightest flirtation?"

"No, never," she said quickly.

"Of course not; and I am so happy, Myra. You, so young and beautiful, to awaken first to love at my words. But are you not cruel and cold to me still? Our marriage so soon, and you treat me only kindly, as if I were a friend, instead of as the man so soon to be your husband."

Myra withdrew her hand, for the door opened, and Edith entered the room, looking troubled and disturbed.

"Good-bye, then, once more, dearest," said Barron, taking Myra's hand, "till dinner time. Ah, Edie!" he said as he crossed to the door, which she was in the act of closing. Then, in a whisper: "Am I to congratulate you? My present will be a suite of pearls."

Edie started, and Barron smiled, nodded, and pa.s.sed out. As he descended the stairs his ears twitched, and his whole attention seemed to be fixed upon the library door, but he could hear no sound, and, taking his hat and gloves from the table, he pa.s.sed out of the great hall, erect, handsome, and with a self-satisfied smile, before the butler could reach it in answer to the drawing room bell.

"Wedding a statue," he said to himself. "But the statue is thickly gilt, and the marble underneath may be made to glow without a West Indian sun. So it was little Edie, then. He hasn't bad taste. The dark horse was not dangerous after all, and was not run for coin."

He was so intent upon his thoughts that he did not notice a hansom cab drawn up about a hundred yards from the house, in which a man was seated, watching him intently, and leaning forward more and more till he was about to pa.s.s, when there was a sharp _pst-pst_, which made him turn and scowl at the utterer of the signal.