Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 86

"I have seen this coming, have seen my way to it for months past; I have swept every barrier away----" He stopped suddenly and bit his lip--"and now for our plans, mother. Try and collect yourself; this has surprised and upset you," he said, sharply.

Mrs. Davenant sat up and looked at him attentively.

"Tomorrow we start, without fuss or bother, for Clumley. I have ordered them to take a pair of horses to the half-way house, so that we can change without loss of time. I have also sent a letter to the clergyman telling him to be prepared for us, and keep his own counsel. We shall reach Clumley, traveling easily, by half-past ten. There will be no wedding breakfast--thank Heaven! no fuss or ceremony. We shall go straight from the church to London, and thence to Paris. Excepting ourselves and clergyman no one can know anything of the matter until the marriage is over, then----" and he drew a long breath and smiled.

Mrs. Davenant, pale and trembling, stared up at him.

"And--and Una? Does she agree to all this?"

"Una agrees to everything," he said, impatiently. "She herself stipulated that it should be done quietly, and"--with a smile--"if this is not quietly, I do not know what is. And now, my dear mother, go and make what preparations are absolutely necessary, and make them yourself, and unaided. Remember there must be no approach to any wedding party. We are only going to take an outing for a day or two. You understand?"

"I understand," she faltered; "and when will you be back, Stephen?" she asked, pitiably. "I--I--you won't be away long, Stephen? I shall miss her so."

Stephen patted her on the shoulder.

"Don't be afraid, mother. We shall not be away too long. I am too proud of my beautiful bride to hide her away. I want to see her here, mistress of the Hurst. My wife! my wife! Hush! here she comes. Do not upset her."

And, with a quick, noiseless step, he went out as Una entered.

Framed in the doorway, she stood for a moment like a picture. Paler and slighter than in the old days, she had lost none of her beauty. Stephen had cause to be proud of his bride. There would be no lovelier woman in Wealdshire than the future mistress of the Hurst. And yet, if Jack could have seen her that moment, what agony her face would have cost him; for his eyes, quickened by his pa.s.sionate love, would have read and understood that subtle change that had fallen on the beautiful face; would have read the settled melancholy which sat enthroned on the dark eyes, and gave them the dreamy, far-away look which never left them for a moment.

"Communing with the past, she walked; Alive, yet dead to all the world."

Slowly she crossed the room, and stood just where Stephen had stood, and looked into the fire; but not as he had looked--triumphantly, joyfully; but with an absent, dreamy air.

Mrs. Davenant put out her hand, and touched her arm.

"Una!"

She turned her head, and looked at her questioningly, with a weary, uninterested gaze.

"Una, he--Stephen has told me. Oh, my darling, I hope you will be happy!"

Una smiled--a cold, mechanical smile.

"Happy? Yes, he says I shall be happy. Do you think," and she looked calmly at the anxious, nervous face, "do you think I shall be happy?"

Mrs. Davenant drew her toward her.

"My dear, you frighten me. You--you are so--so strange and cold. Cold!

Your hands are like ice. Oh, Una, do you know what it means--this that you are going to do? It is not too late. Think, Una. You know how I love you, dear. That I would give all the world to call you--what you are, my heart of hearts--my own daughter. But, oh, Una! if you think, if you are not quite sure that you will be happy----"

Una looked straight at the fire.

"He says so," she said, in the same hard, cold voice; "he is clever and wise. He is your son; why do you doubt him?"

Mrs. Davenant shivered.

"I--I don't doubt him, dear. Yes, he is my son; he has been a good son to me. But you are to be his wife; think."

"I have thought," said Una, quietly. "It will make him happy--he says so; and the rest does not matter to me. Yes, I have thought; I am tired with thinking"; and she put her hand to her brow with a sharp gesture, half wild, half weary. "I will make him happy, and I shall always be with you, whom I love. What does the rest matter?"

Mrs. Davenant uttered a little moan.

"And--and have you quite forgotten?"

Una looked at her calmly, but with a faint shadow in her eyes and a touch of pain on her lips.

"Forgotten! No, I shall not forget until I am dead; perhaps not then; who knows?" and the dreamy look came back. "But that cannot matter. He, Stephen, is content; I have told him all, and he is content. He is easily satisfied." And for the first time a smile of bitterness crossed her lips. "Why should he love me so?" she said, curtly. "Why should he be so anxious to make me his wife? I cannot understand it. Is it because he thinks that I am beautiful? I looked in the gla.s.s just now, and it seemed a dead face."

"Una!"

She turned and smiled.

"It is true. But I have made you cry. Don't do that, dear. At least, we shall be together, shall we not?"

In answer, the poor woman took her in her arms, and cried over her; but Una shed not a single tear.

No, Stephen was not likely to fail. There were not likely to be any hitches in anything he undertook.

Even the weather seemed to conform to his plans and wishes, for the morning broke clear and bright, so that he might say:

"Happy is the bride whom the sun shines on."

Without fuss or bustle, the traveling chariot, with its pair of handsome bays, drew up to the door; a couple of portmanteaus, no larger than was necessary for a day or two's outing, were put in the box; and Slummers, in his tall hat and black overcoat, looking very much like the old-fashioned banker's clerk, stood with the carriage door in his hand.

Presently Stephen came down the steps, dressed in a traveling suit, and looking as calm as usual, but for the touch of color in his face. He had grown younger in appearance, less prim and formal, and altogether better-looking. If he could have lost the trick of looking from under his lowered eyelids, he would have been worth calling handsome. He exchanged a word with Slummers.

"All right, sir. The horses are at Netherton; everything is arranged exactly according to your wishes."

"And no one suspects anything?"

"Not a soul," said Slummers, with a smile.

This morning's work was the sort of thing Slummers liked. He was enjoying himself, and as happy as his master.

Stephen went into the house again, and presently Mrs. Davenant and Una appeared. Notwithstanding Stephen's warning, Mrs. Davenant's eyes were red; but Una showed no traces of emotion; pale, almost white, she looked calmly around her.

In the night she had started out of her sleep, calling wildly, piteously, on Jack to come and save her. But there was no Jack here--only Stephen, smiling and watchful as he came to meet her and help her into the carriage. For a moment her hand touched his bare wrist, and he felt it cold as ice even through her glove; but he smiled still as if he had no fear.

"Once mine," he thought, "and all will be well!"

Quietly, with no fuss or bustle, Slummers closed the door, mounted the box, and the horses started off.

Stephen looked at his watch, and smiled.

"Punctual almost to the minute," he said. "Are you warm enough, my darling?"

And he bent forward, and arranged the costly furs round the slight form.