Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 43

"Thanks," he said; "although I won't dance I'll stay a little while if you'll permit me."

Lady Bell bowed.

"Thank you," she said, almost humbly, as if he had granted her a great favor, as it seemed to Una.

At this moment the great--or little--duke came up with a smile.

"Am I fortunate enough to find you free for this, Lady Earlsley?"

Lady Bell looked at her card, carefully keeping it out of his reach, and shook her head.

"I'm so sorry! My partner will be here directly, I expect."

The duke bowed, expressed his regret, and moved off, not without a glance at Jack, who stood calm and possessed; and Una knew, notwithstanding all her ignorance, that Lady Bell was not engaged, but had refused the duke that she might keep Jack by her side; and with this knowledge the demon jealousy sprang into life, and made himself fully known.

With an awful aching of the heart she sank into a seat and hid her face in her hands.

What right had she there--she, the ignorant, untaught forest girl, among these grand people? Even supposing that he saw her he would not remember her, and if he did he would not care to waste a glance or a word on her, while such a beautiful creature as Lady Bell was willing to refuse a duke for his sake.

Suddenly the brilliant scene seemed to grow dark and joyless; the music sounded harsh and out of tune; all the beauty had vanished, and she longed to be sitting in the depths of Warden Forest.

"Your partner doesn't seem to turn up," said Jack. "He's an ungrateful idiot."

Lady Bell laughed and sank down in a fauteuil just in front of the recess.

"I forgive him," she said, and she swept her skirts aside to make room for him.

Jack sat down, not gratefully, but quite courtly.

Lady Bell was silent for a moment, then she said:

"I would have sent a card for your friend, but I could not remember his name."

"Oh, Len," said Jack, shaking his head. "I'm afraid he would not have come. He never goes out--at least not to this sort of thing. He's a book worm, and doesn't care for the gaieties. His name is Leonard Dagle."

"He is a great friend of yours?"

"The best that ever man had," said Jack, quietly; "more than a brother."

"You live with him?" she said, with an interest only too palpable to the listening Una, whom Lady Bell had quite forgotten.

"Yes, we live together--have done so for years--always shall, I hope, till----"

He paused.

"Till death, were you going to say?" said Lady Bell.

"No, I wasn't," said Jack, simply. "I was going to say till I took his advice and--enlisted."

"Enlisted!" she repeated, turning her beautiful face full upon him.

Jack colored and frowned.

"Yes," he said, stoutly; and though he said not a word more, Lady Bell knew that he was poor and in trouble.

It was just the one thing wanted to finish the romance. He was poor and in trouble, while she was rich beyond the dreams of avarice. Why should she not say as she longed to do:

"You want money. See, here am I who have more than I know what to do with; take some of it and make me happy!"

Instead, she thought it only, and remained silent.

"How hot it is," she said presently. "It is more than time to leave London. One longs for the green fields and the sea."

"It is late," said Jack.

"We are staying in town," she said, "because my father is a bookworm and can only live near a library--he only exists elsewhere. I cannot find it in my heart to tear him away from the British Museum; but we make the best of it. We are going to have a water-party to-morrow at Richmond."

"Yes," said Jack.

She waited for him to ask for an invitation; then, pressing her lip with her fan, said:

"Will you join us?"

Jack hesitated a moment.

"I shall be delighted," he said.

"You don't look it," she said. "But I forgot--savages rarely smile. At any rate, we start to-morrow at twelve o'clock. Sir Arkroyd is going to drive us down in Lord Dalrymple's drag."

"Perhaps there isn't room," said Jack.

"Are you trying to find an excuse for not coming?" she said, smiling on him.

Jack frowned, and then laughed.

"I'll come," he said.

Yes, there was a nameless charm about her which had made itself felt already. Was it her beauty or her frankness--the latter so different to the cut-and-dried and measured manner of the ordinary women of society?

"I'll come," he said.

Then he looked around.

"This is a beautiful room. Where did you get all the flowers from? Some of them I never saw before in London."

"Do you like them?" she said. "Many of them we brought over with us from 'across the seas,' the others I ransacked London to get--at least, poor Mrs. Fellowes did."

"Why poor?" he said.