Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 80

Una, white and cold, was all unconscious of his touch.

Stephen drew her gently to a low seat, and stood over her, his hand resting with the same caressing pity on her arm.

"Yes, I must tell you," he said, his voice low and gentle. "Would to Heaven I had been spared the task. Dear Una! you will be calm--I know your brave spirit and true, courageous heart. You will summon all your strength to bear the blow it is left for me to deal you--me who would lay down my life to spare you a moment's pain!"

She scarcely heeded him. Her eyes, fixed on his face, were dilated with fear and dread, her lips white and apart with suspense.

"Tell me," she murmured. "It is something to do with Jack?"

"It is," he said. "It is."

"He is dead!" she breathed.

And her eyes closed, as a shudder ran through her frame.

"Would to Heaven he had died, ere this night's work," said Stephen, in a low, fierce voice. "No; I have told you the truth. I left him well and--Heaven forgive him--happy."

Una drew a long breath, and smiled wearily.

"What can you have to tell me about him that is so dreadful, if he is alive and happy?"

"He is alive, but he must be dead to you, dear Una," said Stephen.

"Dead to me!" repeated Una, as if the words had no meaning for her.

"Dead to me! I--I do not understand."

Then, as he stood silent, with a look of gentle pity and sorrow on his pale face, a sharp expression of apprehension flashed across her face.

"Say that again," she said. "You--you mean to tell me that he has left me?"

Stephen lowered his head.

Una was silent, while the clock ticked three, then three words came swiftly and sharply from her white lips:

"It is false!"

Stephen started.

"Would to Heaven it were," he murmured.

"Gone! left me without a word," said Una, with a smile of scorn. "Can you ask--can you expect me to believe it?"

"No," said Stephen. "No one would believe such base and hideous treachery without proof."

"Proof!" she echoed, faintly, and with sudden sinking of the heart.

"Proof! Give it to me!"

Stephen drew the letter from his pocket slowly and reluctantly.

Una saw it and shivered.

"It is from him; give it to me," she said.

And she held out her hand.

Stephen took it in his, and held it for a moment.

"Wait--for Heaven's sake wait," he murmured, with agitation. "I meant to break it to you--to explain----"

"Give it to me," was all she said, and she shook his hand off impatiently.

"Take it," said Stephen, with a tremor in his voice, "take it, and would to Heaven he had found some other messenger to bear it."

Una took the letter and slowly but steadily carried it to another part of the room.

There she stood and looked at it as if she were waiting to gain strength to open it.

At last, after what seemed an eternity to Stephen, who was watching her in the gla.s.s, she broke open the envelope and read.

Not twice, but thrice she read it, as if she meant to engrave every line on her heart, then she thrust the letter in her bosom and came back to the fire.

Stephen turned, and with a low cry of alarm at sight of her altered face, moved toward her; but she put up her hand to keep him back.

Altered! Not only in face but in bravery. A minute ago she had been a gentle-hearted, suffering, tortured girl, now she was an injured, deserted woman.

"Thanks," she said, and the words fell like ice from her lips. "You spoke of an explanation. Will you tell me all you know, Stephen?"

"Pray--not now," he murmured. "Tomorrow----"

But she stopped him with a smile, awful to see in its utter despair and unnatural calmness.

"Now, please."

"It--it is too easy of explanation," said Stephen hoa.r.s.ely. "He was tempted and he has fallen. He has bartered his honor for gold. Ask me no more."

Una drew a long breath.

"It is needless," she said. "You mean that he has left me, because I am poor, for Lady Earlsley, who can make him rich."

Stephen turned away and sighed heavily.

Una looked at him for a moment, then sat down at the tea-table.

"You will have some tea?" she said calmly.

Stephen started and looked at her. She had taken up the cream ewer with an unfaltering hand. Great Heaven! could it be possible that she did not feel it--that she did not really love Jack after all! A wild feeling of exultation rose within his heart.

"Thank Heaven!" he murmured, "you can meet such treachery as it deserves--with scorn and contempt."