Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 58

Of course Jack's hand was on hers in a moment.

"I nearly let the cat out of the bag just then," he said. "I must be careful."

"But why?" asked Una. "Why may we not----" she paused, then, having raised her eyes, she continued--"why may she not know?"

"So she shall," said Jack, "all in good time. I can't consent to share my secret all in one evening! Besides----"

"Cannot you find anything," said Mrs. Davenant, sleepily, from the next room.

Jack stuck up some music on the stand and sat down.

He had played well at one time, in a rough fashion, and had a wonderful ear, and, quite regardless of the music, he launched into a prelude.

"Sing the song you sang the other evening, my darling," he whispered. "I remember every note of it."

Una obeyed instantly. Free from any spark of vanity, she knew nothing of the shyness which a.s.sails self-conscious people. Jack, with his acute ear, played a running accompaniment easily enough; it was true he had remembered every note of it.

"You nightingale," he whispered, looking up at her, and the fervent admiration of his eyes made her heart throb.

"Now sing something yourself, Jack," said Mrs. Davenant.

Jack thought a moment, his fingers straying over the keys, then softening his full baritone voice as much as possible, he sang--"Yes, dear, I love but thee!"

It was an old English song, one of the sweetest of the old melodies which even now have power to rouse a _blase_ audience to enthusiasm.

Una stood behind him entranced, bewitched; he sang every word to _her_.

"Yes, dear, I love but thee!"

Oh, Heaven, it was too great a joy!

Unconsciously she drew nearer and put her hand upon his shoulder, timidly, caressingly, and as the music ceased, Jack turned and caught it prisoner in his.

"Yes, dear, I love but thee!" he murmured.

"And I"--she breathed, her eyes melting with pa.s.sionate tenderness--"and I love but thee."

"My darling," he whispered, "do you know what you are giving me--your precious self--and to whom you are giving it?"

The voice fell; conscience was awake again.

"Una," he went on, hurriedly, pa.s.sionately. "I am not worthy of your love----"

"I love but thee!" she breathed, softly.

"You do not know, you who are so ignorant of the world, what it means to wed a man like myself, penniless, worthless--oh, Heaven, forgive me!"

"I love but thee!" she breathed, for all her answer.

Jack bent his head over her hand.

"What can I do?" he murmured, bitterly. "I cannot give her up."

Then he looked up.

"Have you no fear, Una? Do you trust me so entirely? Think, can you face poverty and all its trials. Dear, I am very poor, worse than poor."

She smiled an ineffable smile.

"And I am rich--while I have your love."

Then suddenly her voice changed, and with a look of terror she bent over him, almost clingingly.

"What is it you are saying? Jack! Jack! you will not leave me?"

Jack started to his feet, and regardless of waking Mrs. Davenant, took her in his arms.

"Never, by Heaven!" he exclaimed.

There was one moment of ecstatic joy, then suddenly Una drew back; and with a gesture of alarm, pointed to the looking-gla.s.s. Jack raised his head, and with a sudden cry drew her nearer to him as if to protect her.

Reflected in the gla.s.s was the thin figure of Stephen Davenant, looking rather like a ghost than a man--silent, motionless, with pallid face, and set, rigid eyes.

CHAPTER XXVII.

White and haggard, Stephen stood in shadow-way, his eyes fixed on Jack and Una with an expression of mingled astonishment and rage beyond all description.

Jack was too astonished by what seemed as much an apparition as a reality, to withdraw his arm from round Una's waist, and it was she who first recovered self-possession enough to cross over to Mrs. Davenant and wake her.

Her movement seemed to recall Stephen to a sense of the situation, and in a moment he rose and coped with it.

Another man, a weaker man, coming thus suddenly upon what looked like the wreck of all his deeply-laid plans, upon seeing the girl, whom it was all-important he should secure for himself, in the arms of the man he hated and feared most in the world, would have given vent to his wrath and disappointment. But not so Stephen. By a vast effort, he suppressed the evil glance in his eyes, forced a smile to his compressed lips, and came across the room with outstretched hand and an expression of warmest and most affectionate greeting.

"My dear Jack!" he exclaimed, in his soft tones, almost rough in their warmth and geniality. "Now, this is a pleasant surprise. How do you do?

how do you do?"

But almost before Jack knew it, Stephen had seized him by the hand, and was swinging it convulsively, smiling so that all his teeth glittered and shone in the candle-light.

Jack was taken by surprise, and returned the greeting cordially; indeed, what else could he do, seeing that he was in Stephen's mother's house, and making love to Stephen's _protegee_?

"Quite a surprise!" said Stephen, laughing; and then, still talking to Jack, he crossed over and bent down to kiss his mother. "How do you do, my dear mother? Now don't be angry at my taking you so unexpectedly."

"Angry, my dear Stephen!" faltered Mrs. Davenant; and indeed, it was not anger so much as fear that shone in the timid eyes.

Then, having got himself completely under control, Stephen raised his eyes to Una, and held out his hand.