This House to Let - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel This House to Let Part 22 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"I have no doubt of that. They accused Mr Esmond and his partner, Major Golightly, of cheating. Of course the charge was denied, but very half-heartedly. These three men were backed by others who had seen something suspicious. It seems Mr Esmond and his partner had aroused suspicion before. Finally they confessed, and slunk out of the house."
She paused a moment, and then laid her hand impulsively on his arm.
"That first night you came to our house, you lost. Did you play at the same table with Tommy Esmond? I forget."
The answer came straight. "No, I lost something, what was it?-- something about a hundred and fifty. But Tommy Esmond did not rook me that time, he was playing at another table. I remember he was very c.o.c.k-a-hoop, he was winning hand over fist. I say, I know I am putting a very impertinent question, but were Tommy Esmond and his partner, this Major Golightly, the only sharpers who came to this flat? Did I lose my hundred and fifty, or whatever it was, quite honestly?"
Miss Keane covered her face with her hands for a few seconds, and when she took them away, he could see that tears were slowly trickling down her cheeks.
"Heaven knows, Mr Spencer, I don't. My cousin is a strange woman. She is fond of gaiety, of excitement. She asks people about whom she knows nothing to her flat, I think," she added with an hysterical laugh; "she fancies she is making herself a queen of Society. If she can get her rooms full that is all she wants. When she does that, she fancies herself the d.u.c.h.ess."
"I think I understand," said Spencer gravely. "And I take it you would give heaven and earth to get out of this environment?"
"If you only knew how I loathe it," she cried, in a fervent tone.
"Sometimes I think I would rather run away and be a shopgirl or a waitress, to get rid of this horrible atmosphere."
Guy Spencer was very perturbed. He rose and walked up and down the room--it was his habit to walk about, even in confined s.p.a.ces, when he was in an emotional mood.
At length he turned, and faced her squarely. "Look here, Miss Keane.
It's rather nonsense talking about being a waitress or a shopgirl. You told me you had a small income saved from the wreck. How much is it? I am asking in no spirit of impertinent curiosity. I have a reason for asking."
She hesitated for a moment before she replied: "Something like a hundred a year--paid to me quarterly by my cousin, Mr Dutton, who is my trustee."
"Then you are not exactly a pauper. Shopgirls and waitresses don't earn that."
"But it would help," said Miss Keane, in a stifled voice. "A hundred a year does not go far; with clothes and everything."
He longed to take her in his arms there and then and ask her to be his wife, so far was he subjugated by her subtle fascination. But certain things occurred to him. He thought of his old ancestry, his uncle whose heir he would be, even a faint idea of his cousin Nina flashed through his mind. What would his relatives say to a marriage like that, the marriage with a girl, however beautiful, picked up in a flat, owned by a woman of good family but doubtful reputation?
But he could not afford to lose her. He was rich, he could indulge any pa.s.sing whim. Out of his new-born ideas he spoke.
"Miss Keane, I am very interested in you. Will you agree to look upon me as a friend?"
She looked up at him from under downcast eyes.
"Mr Spencer, somehow I have always looked upon you as a friend, as something different from the ordinary man I meet in a place like this."
"You want to get out of this atmosphere, away from your card-playing cousin, who cannot keep her parties free from disgraceful scandals."
"I have told you how fervently I long to say good-bye to it all."
Spencer had made up his mind as to what he was going to do. It was quixotic, but then he was a quixotic person. And, anyway, he was marking time. He would ask her to marry him in the end, but, at the moment, he did not clearly see his way to do so.
"Suppose a woman friend offered to lend you five hundred pounds, to enable you to get clear of this stifling atmosphere, what would you say?
You could go and live where you like and look around."
"If a woman friend asked me that I think I should say, yes."
"You have agreed that I am your friend, true, a man friend," said Guy.
"Suppose I made you the same offer, what is your answer?"
"From a man friend I fear my answer must be an unhesitating `no,' even to you."
He admired her answer. He could gather from it that she respected herself too much to s.n.a.t.c.h at any offer that came along.
But he would play with her still. "Why?" he asked.
The beautiful eyes, still a little clouded with her tears, met his unfalteringly.
"You know as well as I do," was her answer. "I am poor, Mr Spencer, but I am very proud."
He sat down beside her, and took her hand in his.
"I admire you for that answer, Stella. I may call you Stella, may I not? But I am not quite the ordinary type of man. I am going to speak quite plainly to you. If you accept that five hundred pounds, I am not going to ask you for any return. I want you to understand that."
She shot at him a swift glance from under the downcast eyes.
"You are a man out of a thousand, nay, out of ten thousand," she said, and in her voice there was a note of great appreciation. If Stella Keane ever felt a good impulse in her life, it was towards this man who was doing his best to befriend her.
"Listen to me," said Spencer persuasively, her delicate hand still lying in his. "I don't know that I have done much good to other people in my life, but I do want to help you. I should like to get you out of this beastly hole. My proposal is, that I shall take for you a little furnished flat and supplement your income, or give you the five hundred pounds down, to do what you like with. It is for you to choose."
"You would do this for me?" said Stella softly. "You must really like me, then! Men don't do this sort of thing for women unless they like them."
"I like you very much, Stella, and I want to help you."
He knew that he could take her in his arms and kiss her at his will.
But he forebore. He was not going to spoil this somewhat idyllic wooing.
"It cannot take place for a week or so," she said presently. "I cannot quite leave my cousin in the lurch. I must give her some sort of notice. Of course, I can make the excuse that the events of last night have completely shattered my nerve."
"I don't wonder," was Spencer's comment. "Now, about this little matter we have been speaking of. I think it would be better if I paid this money into your bank, and left you to make your own arrangements. I suppose you have a bank?"
Yes, Miss Keane had a banking-account, a very small one. She smilingly remarked that it would give the manager a shock when such a large sum was paid into it.
"I will draw the money in cash to-morrow and bring it to you," said Spencer. "Then n.o.body will be able to guess from whom it comes."
He rose, he could not trust himself to stay very much longer. At any moment his reserve might break down. He might be impelled to change the role of the benevolent friend into that of the ardent lover.
And for a long time after he had left, Stella Keane sat absorbed in the most serious thoughts.
There was no doubt he was ardently in love with her. But he was not yet quite prepared to screw up his courage to the sticking place.
It was easy to understand. The obligations he owed his family were weighing on his mind. The woman he made his wife would one day be the Countess of Southleigh. He had to think of all this. And all he knew about her was learned from her own statement, and she had a cousin who was, from his point of view, certainly not a gentleman.
Above all things, Stella Keane was a very business-like young woman, and never shrank from looking facts squarely in the face. She must play a waiting game. Guy Spencer was very deeply in love, but he was not a hotheaded, impetuous boy, the sort of amorous youth who runs off with a chorus-girl, regardless of consequences. Lovers of this kind were very rarely met with.
If Guy Spencer did marry her, and she could not at the moment be sure he would, he would be fully conscious of the disadvantages to himself entailed by such a marriage. Would her fascination be strong enough to conquer his better judgment?