Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 65

He had held her hand for a moment when he entered, and now, as he carried the tea cup, he got an opportunity of touching her arm, lovingly, caressingly.

He longed to take her by the hand and say to Lady Bell:

"This is my future wife, Lady Bell," but he remembered Stephen's advice, and was on his guard, so much so that though she watched them closely, Lady Bell saw no sign of the existing state of things.

It was singular, but since Jack's arrival she did not seem at all bored or worried, but rattled on in her gayest mood.

"And what have you been doing since I left town?" she asked Una. "I hope Mr. Newcombe has made himself useful and attentive;" and she looked at Jack, who nodded coolly enough, though Una's face crimsoned.

"Yes, I've been doing the knight errant, Lady Bell. Mrs. Davenant and I are old friends--relations, indeed."

"Ah, yes," said Lady Bell. "I hear your son, Mr. Stephen, is in London."

In a moment Mrs. Davenant's face lost its brightness.

"Yes, yes," she said, nervously; "yes, he is in London."

"Where is he?" said Lady Bell, looking round as if she expected to see him concealed behind one of the chairs. "He's always addressing public meetings, isn't he?"

"Not always, Lady Earlsley," said Stephen, from the open doorway.

"Good heavens! Speak of the--angels, and you hear the rustle of their wings!" exclaimed Lady Bell, not at all embarra.s.sed. "How did you come in, Mr. Davenant?"

"By the door, Lady Earlsley, which was open. Mother, you will lose all your plate some day."

"And what public meeting have you come from now?" asked Lady Bell, with a smile.

"I have been walking in the park," said Stephen, "and am at your ladys.h.i.+p's service."

"I am glad of it," said Lady Bell, quickly, "for I want you--all of you to come and dine with me tonight."

"Tonight!" echoed Jack.

"Tonight! Why not? You have plenty of time to dress. Come, it will be charity--there's an argument for you, Mr. Davenant--for Mrs. Fellowes and I are all alone; papa has gone to some learned society meeting.

Come, I'll go home at once and tell them to get your favorite wines ready. What _is_ your favorite, Mr. Newcombe?"

Jack laughed.

"I'd come and dine with _you_, Lady Bell, if you gave us ginger beer,"

he said.

Lady Bell laughed, but she looked pleased.

"Now, that is what I call a really good compliment--for a Savage," and she glanced at Jack archly. "We'll say half-past eight tonight to give you time to finish your chat. _Au revoir_," and waving her daintily-gloved hand, she flitted from the room.

"Would he dine with me if I had only ginger beer to offer him?" she asked herself, as she went back in the brougham. "Would he? He looks so honest and so true!--so incapable of a mean, unworthy action! I wish I were as poor--as poor as Una. How quietly she sits. She has just the air of one of the great ones of the earth--the air which I, with all my t.i.tle and wealth, shall never have. I wonder who she is, and whether Mr.

Stephen thinks her as beautiful as I do! He looked at her as he went in--well, just as I would that _some one else_ would look at me. How handsome he is, so different to Stephen Davenant. Ah, me! I know now why Brighton was so hateful; if Jack Newcombe had been there I should not have hungered and pined for London! What a miserable, infatuated being I am. I am as bad as that foolish maid of mine. Yes, just as bad, for if Jack Newcombe came and asked me, I should run away with him as she did with her young man!"

Still thinking of him, she reached home and went up to her own room, where Mrs. Fellowes, the long-suffering, hastened to meet her.

"My dear, I'm so glad you've come. How long you have been."

"My dear, you say that every time I come in. What is the matter--another maid run away?"

"No, but a maid has come, at least a young person--I was going to say lady--who wants the situation."

"Well, a lady's maid ought to be a lady," said Lady Bell, languidly.

"Where is she?"

"In my room," said Mrs. Fellowes. "She came with a note from Lady Challoner. It seems the poor girl has been in trouble--she has lost her father--and not caring to go for a governess----"

"For which I don't blame her," said Lady Bell.

"She is desirous of getting an engagement as a companion or lady's maid."

"A companion's worse off than a governess, isn't she?" said Lady Bell, naively.

Mrs. Fellowes smiled.

"Yes. What is her name?" asked Lady Bell.

"Well, there's the point," said Mrs. Fellowes. "Her name is Laura Treherne, but as some of her friends--she hasn't many, she says--might think that she had done wrong in taking a menial situation she wishes to be known by some other name."

"I hate mysteries and aliases," said Lady Bell. "I don't think I shall engage her. She'll be too proud to do my hair and copy all my dresses in common material. Well, I'll see her."

"I'll send her away if you like," said Mrs. Fellowes; "but I think you'll like her."

"Do you? Then I know exactly what she's like before I see her if she has taken your fancy. Some prim old maid in black cotton and thick shoes."

Mrs. Fellowes smiled and rang the bell, and bade a servant to ask the young person who was waiting to step that way.

Lady Bell began taking off her gloves yawningly, but stopped suddenly, and looked up with an air of surprise as the door opened and a tall girl, with dark hair and eyes, entered.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Lady Bell overmastered her surprise, and asking the young girl to sit down, looked at her critically as she did so.

Yes, the girl was a lady, there could be no doubt of that. But it was not only the evidence of refinement in the face and the manner of the girl that struck Lady Bell; there was an expression in the dark eyes and clear-cut lips, slightly compressed, which roused her interest and curiosity.

It was a face with a history.

For the first time she looked at Lady Challoner's note.

"I see," she said, "that Lady Challoner knows you, Miss Treherne."