Part 34 (2/2)
”I don't know. I can't make out exactly where she is. She seems to have changed in some way. If she hadn't lived under your eye ever since she has been in England I should be half disposed to think some other fellow had been making love to her.”
Sir Charles gave a little start, then turned his head, and contemplated his writing pad.
”I suppose she didn't flirt with anybody while you were in London?”
Gervase questioned, after a pause.
”Not that I am aware of. Oh, no! I'm certain she didn't,” Sir Charles replied, looking up again.
”And, of course, in St. Gaved there's n.o.body she would look at for a moment,” Gervase went on.
Sir Charles nibbled for a moment at the end of his penholder. He hardly knew whether to tell Gervase or no. It was but a vague fear at most. For months--so he believed--she had never seen Rufus Sterne, and his name was never mentioned under any circ.u.mstances. Gervase was a violent fellow, and if he were made jealous there was no knowing what he might do or say. On the other hand, it was almost certain that he would hear the story of Madeline's adventure on the cliffs sooner or later, and then he would be excessively angry at not having been told by his own people.
On the whole, Sir Charles concluded that he had better let Gervase know all there was to be known. The simple truth might gain in importance in his eyes the longer it was kept from him.
”I don't think, Gervase, you need have the least fear that you have a rival,” he said, at length, looking up with what he intended to be a rea.s.suring smile. ”There was a little circ.u.mstance some months ago that caused me a moment's uneasiness; but only a moment's. I soon saw that it meant nothing, that it never could mean anything, in fact.”
”What was the circ.u.mstance?” Gervase asked, with a quick light of interest in his eyes.
”Well, it came about in this way,” and Sir Charles told in an off-hand and apparently indifferent manner the story of Madeline's escapade.
Gervase listened in gloomy silence, tugging vigorously at his moustache all the time.
”And you say she visited him in his diggings?” he questioned, sullenly, when Sir Charles had finished.
”I understand she called twice. From her point of view it seemed right enough. He had broken his leg in rescuing her, and with her American notions of freedom and independence, she saw no harm in calling to see him when he was getting better.”
”But you say she went twice?”
”She went a second time to take him some books she had promised to lend him.”
”Are you sure she went only twice?”
”I think I may say yes to that question. Madeline is very truthful and very frank, and when I pointed out that it was scarcely in harmony with our English notions of propriety she fell in with the suggestion at once.”
”And she made no attempt to see him after?”
”Not the smallest. She had expressed her grat.i.tude and the episode had closed.”
Gervase looked thoughtful, and not quite satisfied.
”Madeline can be as close as an oyster when she likes,” he said, after a pause; ”how do you know she has not been thinking about the fellow ever since?”
”Why should she?”
”Well, why shouldn't she? He saved her life, that is no small matter, especially to a romantic temperament like hers. He broke his leg, and nearly lost his life in doing it; that would add greatly to the interest of the situation. Then, if I remember rightly, he's a singularly handsome rascal, with an easy flow of speech, and a voice peculiarly rich and flexible.”
”My dear boy, you can make a mountain out of a molehill, if you like,”
Sir Charles said, with a laugh. ”That's your look-out. I thought it right to tell you everything--this incident among the rest; but I can a.s.sure you you need not worry yourself five seconds over the matter.”
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