Part 47 (2/2)

”Austen, then, if I must,” she said. ”You know very well that you should not be here. You are breaking a promise. It is very, very nice to see you,” she continued. ”Indeed, I do feel that. But I am afraid!”

”I have sufficient reasons for breaking my promise, dear,” I said, taking her hand in mine. ”I will explain them to you by and by. In the meantime, please answer my question.”

”You are serious, then?” she asked, looking at me with wide-open eyes, and lips which quivered a little--whether with laughter or emotion I could not tell.

”I am serious,” I answered. ”You want taking care of, Felicia, and I am quite sure that I should be the best person in the world to do it.”

Her eyes fell before mine. She seemed to be studying the point of her long patent shoe. As usual she was dressed delightfully, in a light fawn-colored tailor-made gown and a large black hat. Nevertheless she seemed to me to be thinner and frailer than when I had first seen her--too girlish, almost, for her fas.h.i.+onable clothes.

”Do you think that you would take care of me?” she said softly. ”I am afraid I am a very ignorant little person. I do not know much about England or English ways, and every one says that things are so different here.”

”There is one thing,” I declared, ”which is the same all the world over, and that is that when two people care for one another, the world becomes not such a very difficult place to live in, Felicia. I wonder if you could not try and care a little for me?”

”I do,” she murmured, without looking up.

”Enough?” I asked.

She sighed. Suddenly she raised her eyes, and I saw things there which amazed me. They were no longer the eyes of a frightened child. I was thrilled with the pa.s.sion which seemed somehow or other to have been born in their deep blue depths.

”Dear Austen,” she said, ”I think that I care quite enough. But listen. How can I say, 'Yes,' to you? Always my uncle has been kind, in his way. I know now that he is worried, hara.s.sed to death, afraid, even, of what may happen hour by hour. I could not leave him. He would think that I had lost faith, that I had gone over to his enemies.”

”Felicia dear,” I said, ”I do not wish to be the enemy of any one who is your friend. Indeed, your uncle and his doings mean so little to me. If they are honest, I might be able to help him. If he is engaged in transactions of which he is ashamed, then it is time that you were taken away.”

”I will never believe that,” she declared.

”Felicia,” I said, ”I will tell you why I have broken my promise and come to London. I believe I told you that I had a brother out in Brazil?”

”Yes!” she answered,--”d.i.c.ky, you called him.”

”He wrote, you know, and said that he had been staying with the Deloras on their estate, and he begged that I should call upon your uncle here. Now I have had a cable from him. Felicia, there is something wrong. You shall read the cable for yourself.”

I gave it to her. She read it word by word. Then she read it again, aloud, very softly to herself, and finally gave it back to me.

”I do not understand,” she whispered. ”I do not know why my uncle has not communicated with his brother.”

”I am beginning to believe, Felicia,” I said, ”that I know more than you. I tell you frankly I believe that your uncle has kept silence because he is not honestly carrying out the business on which he was sent to England. Tell me exactly, will you? When did he arrive from America?”

She shook her head.

”Austen,” she said, ”you know there were some things which I promised to keep silent about, and this is one.”

”At any rate,” I said, half to myself, ”he could not have been in Paris more than three weeks. I do not understand how in that three weeks he could have obtained such a hold upon you that you should come here and do his bidding blindly, although you must know that some of the things he does are extraordinary and mysterious.”

She was obviously distressed.

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