Part 40 (1/2)
”I should like to twist the scoundrel's neck,” he said to himself, with an ugly look upon his face. ”I wonder what he expects to gain? Of course, he will never dare to make love to her. It might be a good thing if he did----”
Then his thoughts took another turn. Madeline was an American, and under the Stars and Stripes social considerations counted for very little.
Possibly she thought that Rufus Sterne was just as good as he, and if she did, heaven only knew what would happen.
”I was a fool not to make love to her at the first,” he thought, with a scowl. ”She thought no end of me then, and I could have married her right off. I'm sure I could, but father insisted that waiting was the game. Father was a fool, and I was a fool to listen to him.”
The lights from the Hall windows began to glimmer through the trees, and he had spoken no word to her since they pa.s.sed through the lodge gates.
He had looked at her once or twice, but she kept her eyes straight in front of her. Did she expect he would scold her, he wondered? Had she begun to realise that her conduct was deserving of censure, or was she only annoyed that she had been seen?
The silence was becoming embarra.s.sing. He wished she would speak, and give him the opportunity of reply. To walk side by side like mutes at a funeral promised ill for the future.
”Are you tired, Madeline?” He was bound to say something, and one question would serve as well as another.
”Not in the least,” and she quickened her steps to give point to her statement.
”Oh! please don't walk so fast,” he said, in a tone of entreaty. ”One can't talk when walking so fast.”
”I don't want to talk.”
”Why not, Madeline? You are not angry with me, surely?”
”Of course not. Why should I be?”
”I might be angry with you, but I'm not. I never could be angry with you, Madeline. You have no idea how much I think of you, and how much I appreciate you.”
”Why might you be angry with me?” she asked, sharply, without turning her head.
The question almost staggered him for a moment. Yet as he had brought it upon himself he was bound to answer it.
”Well, you see,” he said, desperately, ”no man cares to see the woman he loves, and whom he expects to marry, walking out with another man, especially after dark.”
”Oh, indeed!”
”But don't think I am angry with you, Madeline,” he interposed, quickly.
”I could trust you anywhere.”
”Then why did you come spying on me?” and she turned her eyes suddenly upon him.
”No, not spying on you, Madeline,” he said, humbly; ”that is not the right word to use. But I knew that fellow might be loitering about. He is always hanging about somewhere.”
”Everybody hangs about somewhere--to quote your elegant phrase,” she said, sharply.
”Yes, yes. But anybody can see what that fellow is after. He did you a service, there is no denying it, and now he is presuming on your good nature.”
”In which way?”
”Well, in getting you to notice him and speak to him.”
”Surely I can speak to anyone I choose?”