The White Virgin Part 10

"A fall," he said, as he stood alone in the prettily furnished bedroom: "alone in the mountains, and no one by to help. I wish I had been there--with Janet, too, of course."

Dinah Gurdon was at that moment indulging in similar thoughts--naturally omitting Janet--and as she stood nearly opposite a gla.s.s, she became aware of her face reflected there, when she turned away with a shiver.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

UNDERMINING.

"Hallo, Jess, you here?" cried Clive, as he suddenly encountered his brother at Dr Praed's door in Russell Square.

Jessop Reed started, and in spite of his man-about-town confidence, he looked for the moment confused, but recovered himself directly.

"Might say the same to you," he retorted. "I thought you were down some hole in the Midlands."

"But I've come up again. Just got here from St Pancras now. I say, though, what is it? Out of sorts--been to see the Doctor?"

"Eh? Oh no. I'm all right. But I'm in a hurry. See you at dinner."

"Why, what's the matter with him?" thought Clive, as his brother hurried away. "Fast life, I suppose. I'll run in and ask the Doctor before I go up."

He rang; the Doctor's confidential man opened the door, and stood back for him to enter.

"Patient with the Doctor, Morgan?"

"No, sir; past his time. Gone on to the hospital. Back soon."

Clive stared.

"Miss Praed's in the drawing-room, sir."

"Oh, all right. I'll go up," said Clive; and he began to ascend two steps at a time. "I hope Jess isn't ill. Disappointed, I suppose, at finding the old man out."--"Ah, Janet, darling," he cried, as he entered the drawing-room, to find his fiancee standing with a bouquet in her hand, looking dreamy and thoughtful.

She flushed up as he caught her in his arms and kissed her tenderly, and then frowned slightly, and put on the pouting look of a spoiled child.

"Why, what a bonnie bunch of roses!" he cried. "Let's have one for a b.u.t.ton-hole."

"No, no," she said hastily, and a pained look of perplexity crossed Clive's countenance as she held the bouquet from him. Then with forced playfulness, "Mustn't be touched."

"All right," he cried merrily. "I came round this way so as to see you first, pet. Raced up by the early train this morning."

"Indeed!" said Janet, raising her eyebrows; "been in Derbyshire, have you not?"

"My darling!"

"Well, one knows so little of your movements now."

"Oh, I say, Janet dear, don't be hard upon a poor busy fellow. You know why I am away so much. All for your sake, pet," he whispered earnestly; "to make ourselves thoroughly independent, and you a home of which you may be proud."

There was a slight catching in Janet Praed's breath, as she said jerkily, and with a show of flippancy, to hide the emotion from which she suffered, for self-accusation was busy with her just then, and a pang or two shot through her as she contrasted the frank, honest manner of her betrothed, and his words, so full of simple honest affection, with others to which she had in a foolish, half-jealous spirit listened again and again--

"Oh yes, I know," she said, curling up her pretty lip, and speaking hastily to hide her feelings; "but you might have called."

"Now, Janet, love, don't tease me. How could I, dear?"

"Well, then, you might have written. A whole week away and not a line."

"Gently, my own darling, judge, guide, and counsellor in one," he cried warmly. "I might have written, and ought to have written, but I have been, oh so busy all day, and when I got back to quarters, there was the Major to talk to me, and I could not slight Miss Gurdon."

"The Major--Miss Gurdon? May I ask who these people are?"

"Oh, a very jolly old sort of fellow, who lives close to the mine, with an only daughter. He insisted upon my staying there while I was down, and I wasn't sorry; for--O Janet! let me whisper it in your lovely little sh.e.l.l of an ear," he continued playfully--"the miner's cottage I slept at one night was not comfortable; it was grubby, and oh, those fleas! If it had not been for my stout walking-stick--"

"What sort of a person is Miss Gurdon?" said Janet, interrupting him quickly.

"Oh, very nice and ladylike."

"Pretty?"

"Pretty! Well, you would hardly call it pretty. A sad, pensive face, very sweet and delicate, and with the look of one who had known trouble.

There seemed to be some secret about father and daughter."

"Oh!" said Janet softly, and the colour came into her cheeks very warmly. "And you were very comfortable there?"

"Yes, very," said Clive emphatically.

"Too comfortable to remember me and write, of course."

"O Janet, my darling!" he said tenderly, as he pa.s.sed his arm about her waist, "how can you be such a jealous little thing! As if I could think of any one but you. You were with me night and day. It was always what is Janet doing? how does she look? and is she thinking of me? Whether I was scrambling about down in the mine like a mud-lark, or more decent and talking to Miss Gurdon of an evening in their tiny drawing-room."

"About me, of course," said Janet coldly.

"No, dear," said Clive innocently, "I never mentioned your name. I dared not, pet, for fear they should laugh at me, and think what a great goose I was. For I am, pet. Once I begin talking to any one about you, I can't leave off."

"Indeed!" she said sarcastically.

"Why, Janet, dear," he said earnestly, and he tried to take her hand, "what have I said or done? Surely you don't think--Oh, my love, my dear love!" he cried, with his voice growing deep and earnest, "how can you be so ready to take pique over such trifles! Janet, I love you with all my heart, dear. I have not a thought that is not for my own darling."

"No, no; don't touch me," she panted, as he drew her towards him.

"I will--I will, darling wifie to be; but you must master these little bits of uncalled-for jealousy, dear. They are not fair to me, and next time I am away I will at any cost write to you, even if the business fails, and--"

"Scoundrel! ruffian! how dare you put your arm around my daughter, sir?

She is not your wife yet."

The words came so fiercely and suddenly that Clive started away, and Janet hurriedly escaped to the other side of the chair. For the Doctor had bustled in just as Clive was trying to take the kiss withheld from him, and now stood there with a terrific frown upon his heavy grey brow.

The next moment he had burst into a hearty roar of laughter.

"Nice guilty pair you look," he cried. "Ah! you may well turn red, you unblushing puss! Eh? No, that won't do, it's a bull. And you, sir, how dare--Well, how are you, Clive, my boy? Came round here first, eh?