Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 61

Jack hailed a cab, and they were rattled to the Albany.

Of course they could not talk, and Stephen had therefore time to perfect his scheme; for he had already begun to plot and plan.

The door of the chambers was opened by Slummers, his tall, square figure dressed in black, his discreet, s.h.i.+fty eyes absolutely veiled under his lids.

"Let us have some Apollinaris and the liquor-case, Slummers," said Stephen, "and that box of cigars which Mr. Newcombe liked. Sit down, my dear Jack."

And he wheeled forward a chair facing the light, and took one for himself, so that his own face should be shaded.

Jack looked round the room while Slummers brought the tray.

The four walls were nearly covered with books, all of them of the dryest and most serious kind. Where any s.p.a.ce was left, it was filled up with portraits of eminent divines and philanthropists, and every article in the room was neatly and methodically arranged. In fact, it presented as marked a contrast to Jack's rooms as it was possible to conceive.

Jack had not been inside it for years, but he remembered distinctly how he used to loathe the room and its "fixings."

"Now, my dear Jack, pray help yourself--those cigars I know you approve; I heard you praise them at the Hurst, and I brought a box at once."

"Thanks," said Jack, and he lit a cigar.

Stephen mixed the Apollinaris and brandy; and leaned back serene and amiable.

"And now, my dear Jack, I am ready to answer all questions."

Jack looked down and frowned thoughtfully. He did not know how to put them. Stephen smiled maliciously behind his hand.

"You want to know how it comes about that Miss Rolfe is under my mother's charge--under my charge, I may say?"

"Under yours?" said Jack, grimly.

Stephen nodded.

"It is a very simple affair, Jack. There is no mystery. The fact is, I have known Miss Rolfe's father for some years. He is a very good fellow, but very eccentric."

"I know," said Jack; "I've seen him."

Stephen started, and concealed his expression of surprise by reaching for his gla.s.s.

"Ah, then, no doubt, you noticed that his appearance and manner does not correspond with the station he occupies?"

"I did," said Jack.

"Yes, yes, just so. Well, my dear Jack, my poor friend Rolfe has been in early life unfortunate--money matters, which I never quite understand.

Like most men of his kind, he got disgusted with the world and hid himself--there is no other word for it. But it is one thing to hide yourself and quite another to bury your children. My friend Rolfe felt this when he awoke to the fact that his daughter had grown from a child to a young woman, and like a sensible man he applied to one who was conversant with the world, and one in whom he could have, I trust, full confidence--my self."

Jack sat silently regarding the white, calm face with grim, observant eyes.

"He did not appeal to an old friends.h.i.+p in vain. I undertook the charge of Miss Rolfe on one condition. I may say two--one on her side, one on mine. Hers was that she should live with my mother, under her protecting wing, as it were; mine was that I should be the absolute guardian of the young girl committed to my charge."

Jack stared.

"You are Una's guardian?" he said, at last, with unconcealed surprise, as Gideon Rolfe's curse upon the race of Davenants flashed upon his memory.

Stephen Davenant smiled.

"You are surprised, my dear Jack. But think! It is very natural. Unless I had unquestionable control over the young lady, how could I answer for her safety? How guard her against the attacks of fortune hunters----"

Jack started.

"Fortune hunters!" he exclaimed. "Do you mean to say that Una is an heiress?"

Stephen's face had flushed and turned deadly pale.

He had actually been thinking of Una Davenant while he had been talking of Una Rolfe.

"You did not hear me out, my dear Jack," he said, softly, recovering his composure instantly. "I was going to say against the attack of fortune hunters who might besiege her under the impression that, as my ward, she would be possessed of wealth, instead of being, as you know, absolutely penniless."

Jack nodded.

"At any rate," he said, grimly, "I was not so deceived."

"My dear Jack!" exclaimed Stephen, reproachfully, "do you suppose that I do not know that! You, who are the soul of honor and disinterestedness, are not likely to be mistaken for a fortune hunter by anyone, least of all by me, who know and love you so well!"

Jack winced, as the vision of Lady Bell rose before his eyes.

"Go on," he said, impatiently.

"Well, my dear Jack," said Stephen with a smile, and rubbing his hands softly, "is it not rather for you to go on? I am Una's guardian, you are her lover."

"I see," said Jack, rising and pacing up and down the room. "You want me to ask your consent formally. Well, I do so."

Stephen laughed as if at an excellent joke.

"What a grim, thorough-going old bulldog you are, my dear Jack!" he exclaimed affectionately. "You ask my consent, as if you did not know that you have it, and my best, my very heartiest wishes into the bargain. But, Jack, don't you see why I am so pleased--why this makes me so happy? It is because now you will be compelled to do me the favor of taking a share of the poor squire's money!"

Jack started as if he had been stung.

"You see, my dear fellow! you can't marry on nothing--now, can you? Love must have a cottage, and--but I beg your pardon, my dear fellow! I am, perhaps, going too far. Much to my grief and regret you have never confided in me as I should have wished, and perhaps--I hope that it may be so--you have some means----"

Jack paced up and down, the perspiration standing on his knitted brow.

In the ecstatic joy which had fallen upon him like a glamour during those few short hours with Una, he had absolutely forgotten that he was penniless, and in debt, and without a prospect in the wide world.

And now it all rushed back upon him; every softly-spoken word of Stephen's fell upon him like a drop in an icy shower bath, and awoke him from his dream to the stern reality.

What was he to do? Great Heaven, was he actually driven to accept Stephen's charity?

A shudder ran through him, a pang of worse than wounded pride.