Part 62 (1/2)

Become a pensioner of Stephen Davenant's! No, it was simply impossible.

White and haggard with the struggle that was going on within him, he turned upon the smiling face.

”What you want--what you propose, is impossible,” he said, hoa.r.s.ely. ”I cannot and will not do it. I would rather beg my bread----”

Stephen smiled. It was a delicious moment for him, and he prolonged it.

”My dear Jack! what would Mr. Gideon Rolfe say if I gave his daughter to a beggar? I use your own words. It is ridiculous. But come, sit down.

Grieved as I am at what I must call your mistaken obstinacy, I can't help being touched by it. You always were willful, my dear Jack, always.

Alas! it was that very willfulness that estranged you from my uncle----”

”No more of that,” said Jack, sternly.

Stephen made a gesture with his hand.

”And it would, if another man were in my place, rob you of your sweetheart; but it shall not. I am determined to prove to you, my dear Jack, that my desire to be a friend is sincere and true. Let me think.

There may be some loophole in your pride which I can creep in at.”

Jack went back to his seat and lit another cigar, and Stephen appeared lost in thought, but in reality he watched through his fingers, and gloated over the despair and trouble depicted on Jack's miserable countenance.

”Yes, I have it. Come, Jack, you won't refuse a.s.sistance when it comes from the hand of her Majesty? You won't object to a government appointment?”

”A government appointment?” said Jack, vaguely.

Stephen nodded.

”Yes,” he went on. ”By a singular chance I have acquired some influence with the present government. One of these men has a seat in Wealds.h.i.+re, which really hangs on the Hurst influence. The squire never interfered, but I could do so; and--you see, my dear Jack--a snug little sinecure, say of a thousand a year! It is not much, it is true; but Una has not been accustomed to wealth so long as to feel a thousand a year to be poverty.”

Jack rose and paced the room. Was he dreaming, or was this a different Stephen to the one he knew and disliked? He had heard of sudden wealth as suddenly transforming the nature of a man. Had Stephen's nature undergone this marvelous change?

He doubted and mistrusted him, but here was the absolute evidence. What could Stephen gain by this generosity? Nothing--absolutely nothing. It was strange, pa.s.sing strange; but who was he that he should refuse to believe in the generosity and virtue of another man, especially when that generosity was exerted on his behalf?

Struggling against his suspicion and prejudice, Jack strode round the table and held out his hand.

”Stephen, I--I have wronged you. You must be a good fellow to behave in this way, and I--well, I have been a brute, and don't deserve this on your part.”

Stephen winced under the hard grip of the warm, honest hand.

”Not a word more, my dear Jack; not a word more,” he exclaimed.

”This--this is really very affecting. You move me very much.”

And he pressed his spotless handkerchief to his eyes.

Jack's ardor cooled at once, and the old disgust and suspicion rose; but he choked them down again, and sat down.

”Not a word more,” said Stephen, with a gulp, as if he were swallowing a flood of tears. ”I have long, long felt your coldness and distrust, my dear Jack, but I vowed to live it down, and prove to you that you have wronged me. Believe me that my good fortune--my unexpected fortune--was quite imbittered to me by the thought that you would misjudge me.”

Jack pulled at his cigar grimly. Stephen was on the wrong track, and he saw it, and hastened to change it.