Charles Garvice

“ Jack was certainly not the man to cry over milk spilt or strewn, and long before the train had reached Arkdale he had forgotten his ill-luck and the mystery attending the will, and all his thoughts were fixed on the beautiful girl who dwelt in a woodman’s hut in the midst of Warden Forest.
Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest, and Jack felt that the fruit was forbidden here. What on earth business had he, a ruined man, to be lounging about Warden, or any other forest, in the hope of getting a sight of, or a few words with, a girl, whom, be she as lovely as a peri, could be nothing to him? ”

“ You will see the old house in which I was so happy as a boy—which I once thought would have been mine.”
“Dear Jack!” she murmured; and her hand smoothed the hair from his forehead caressingly and comfortingly.
“Well, never mind,” said Jack; “it is better as it is. Perhaps I should have had the Hurst, and have lost you; and I would rather lose the whole earth than you, my darling! Besides, Stephen has turned out a better fellow than I thought him, and deserves all he has got, and will make a better use of it than I should. No, I am content—I have got the greatest treasure on earth!” ”

“ From the first I have been unworthy of you; I am more unworthy now than ever. I dare not ask of you to remember me; forget me, Una, forget that such a person as I ever crossed your path. Would to Heaven that we had never met! Don’t think hardly of me, my darling, whatever you may hear. What I am doing is as much for your good as for mine. Good-bye. I shall never cease to remember and love you, whatever happens. Good-bye!
“Jack.” Blotted and smeared, he enclosed it in an envelope, and dropped it before Gideon Rolfe; then he looked round for his hat.
“A glass of wine, Jack?” murmured Stephen. ”

“ As if he had uttered a command, she looked at him with meek obedience, and began the song he had heard her singing in the forest.
Is there anything more exquisite on earth than the voice of a young girl? Una knew nothing of the science of song; she had had no master, no instruction of any sort; but her voice was clear and musical as a young thrush’s and she sang straight from her heart.
No need to tell Jack to pull slower! He ceased rowing, and rested on his oar, his eyes fixed on her face, his lips half apart. ”

“ Davenant stammered, and fidgeted speechlessly.
“Ah!” said Lady Bell, quickly, in the same low tone. “You think I’m rude and ill-bred. They all do when I ask a simple question, or show the slightest interest in anything.” She glanced at Una lingeringly: “I mustn’t ask, I suppose?”
“I—I—she is new to London,” said Mrs. Davenant. “It is her first day——”
“Her first day!” echoed Lady Bell, her eyes twinkling. “Do you mean that she was never in London before? How I envy her; I who am sick and weary of it! Yes, the glamour is on her; I can see it in her eyes—on her face. ”

“ Davenant.
“She wants change; nothing but entire change of life and thought will do her good. Mother, if she remained here, if something were not done, she would”—he paused, and went on hoarsely, “she would die!”
Mrs. Davenant shuddered and her eyes filled. “My poor, poor Una!” she murmured.
Stephen moved impatiently. “She will not need your pity, mother. A few weeks hence and you will have no reason to pity her. I’ll stake my life that I bring her back here with the roses in her cheeks, with the smile in her eyes, as of old. Mother, you do not know what such love as mine can do!” ”

“ It was far into the morning before he went to bed, and at the head of the stairs he turned and looked round with a proud smile.
“All—all mine!” he muttered, “and I will have her, too,” and he went to sleep and dreamed, not of Una, but of Laura Treherne.
All through the watches of the night the pale, dark face haunted him. At times he saw it peering at him through the library window, at others it was pursuing him along an endless road; but always it wore a threatening aspect and filled him with a vague terror.
Some men’s conscience only awake at night. ”

“ Una mused for a minute in silence; then she looked up and said:
“I ought to do what Mr. Stephen wishes. Do you know what he wants me to do?”
“You are to be companion to me, my dear.”
“I am very fond of fairy tales,” she said; “but I have never read one more strange and beautiful than this.”
“Let me show you how to put on your gloves, dear,” she said. “Yes, you have got a small hand, and a beautifully-shaped one, too. Strange, small hands are a sure sign of high birth.”
“Perhaps I am a princess in disguise. No! I am a woodman’s daughter in the disguise of a princess, that is it.” ”

“ Jack was never tired of calling her beautiful; had even gone so far as to speak of her loveliness, and it had raised no vanity in her; but this evening she felt she would like to appear really and truly beautiful in his eyes, so beautiful that even Lady Bell’s spirited face should be forgotten.
She had chosen the dress he liked best; had selected, with unusual care, a couple of flowers from the costly bouquet, which, morning and evening, was sent to her room from the hot-houses, and had decked herself in the locket and bracelet, and ring which Jack had given her. ”

“ Was the old man delirious, or had he, Stephen, really played the part of sycophant, toady and boot-licker all these years for nothing?
Great drops of sweat rolled down his face, his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and his knees shook so that he had to steady himself by holding the curtain.
“Yes, disappointed all. You don’t understand. You think that you know everything. But no; I trusted you with a great deal, but not with all. How dark it is! Hudsley, you are an old man; don’t finish up like—like this. Only one soul in the wide world is sorry that I’m going; and he’s a fool. Poor Jack! ”

“ I, too, have learned a lesson—a truth—while you have been away. And that truth is, that others may love as truly and deeply as myself; and that others may find it as impossible to forget——”
Jack, pale and agitated, stopped her.
“The past is buried,” he said, hoarsely—“let it rest.”
“It is not buried—it cannot be. See! it revives—springs up, even without the mention of her name. Jack, you do not love me—you cannot; for all your love has been given, is still given, to Una.”
“For Heaven’s sake!” he implored, rising and pacing the room.
Lady Bell looked at him.
“Ah, how you love her still, Jack! ”

“ You don’t know Lady Bell—nor do I very well; but I know enough of her to be convinced that if you do not go tomorrow night, she would come and fetch you, though she left all her guests to do so.”
“Is she then so—so accustomed to having her own way?”
“Always; she always has her own way. She is rich—very, very rich—and petted; and she is even more than that; she—she—I don’t know how to explain myself. Well, my dear, she is a sort of queen of society, and more powerful than many real queens.”
“So that when she commands such as I am I must obey,” said Una, with her low, musical laugh. ”

“ Stephen sank into a chair, and wiped the drops of cold sweat that had accumulated on his brow.
“He suspects me,” he muttered. “He suspects! But he suspects only, and he can do nothing, or he would have done it. Yes; he is powerless. Let him go! let him go!” he repeated; and he paced the room.
Gradually the relief of Hudsley’s withdrawal broke upon him, and his step grew lighter.
“Yes, let him go! Now I am free—I am my own master! master of wealth undreamed of! And I’ll use it! By Heaven, I’ll be happy! Let him go! ”

“ Davenant and Jane entered into a consultation as to what Una should wear, Una standing by with a quiet smile.
At last they decided that a dainty-figured satin should be honored; and both of them, notwithstanding Una’s protests, insisted upon assisting at her toilet.
They could not have chosen anything more suited to her fresh, virginal beauty than the simple, delicate dress; and when Jane had brushed the soft, silken hair until it shone and flashed like strands of golden haze, and coiled it into a knot, Mrs. Davenant could not suppress an exclamation of satisfaction and admiration. ”

“ 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 wish I were as poor—as poor as Una. How quietly she sits. She has just the air of one of the great ones of the earth—the air which I, with all my title and wealth, shall never have. I wonder who she is, and whether Mr. Stephen thinks her as beautiful as I do! He looked at her as he went in—well, just as I would that some one else would look at me. How [228] handsome he is, so different to Stephen Davenant. Ah, me! I know now why Brighton was so hateful; if Jack Newcombe had been there I should not have hungered and pined for London! What a miserable, infatuated being I am. ”