Part 21 (2/2)
I seated myself as I spoke, and laid my hand across Jane's knee.
”Now, that is cosy,” I said. She touched my arm as though she loved to touch it, and then she laid her firm, weather-beaten hand on my shoulder, and then, as if impelled by an unwonted impulse, she bent forward and kissed me on my cheek.
”You are a very nice girl. Since I knew you life has been far pleasanter to me,” said Jane Mullins. ”I thank you for giving me a bit of love. Whatever happens I want you to remember that.”
”I do,” I answered; ”you have very little idea how much I care for you, Jane, and how immensely I respect you. There are, I think, very few women who would have acted as you have done. I am fully convinced there is a mystery in all your actions which has not yet been explained to me, but I have not come here to-night to talk about that.
I have come here to ask you one or two questions, and to tell you one or two things, and my first question is this--Why were you sighing when I came in, and why did you murmur to yourself, 'What if it all turns out a mistake?' Will you explain those words, Jane.”
”No,” replied Jane stoutly, ”for you were eavesdropping when you heard them, and there is no reason why I should explain what you had no right to listen to.”
”Thank you; you have answered me very sensibly, and I won't say another word on the subject of your sigh and your remarkable speech.
But now to turn to the matter which has brought me to your room so late in the evening.”
”Well, dear, it is past midnight, and you know how early I am up. It is a little unreasonable of you; what has brought you, darling?”
”Mr. Fanning has brought me.”
”Oh dear, oh dear, that tiresome man again,” said Miss Mullins.
”You don't like him yourself, do you, Jane?”
”It is a great pity he is not different,” said Jane, ”for he is extremely well off.”
”O Jane! pray don't talk nonsense. Do you suppose that a person with the name of Fanning could have any interest whatever for me? Now, please, get that silly idea out of your head once for all.”
”Oh, as far as any use that there is in it, I have long ago got it out of my head,” replied Jane; ”but the thing to be considered is this, that he has not got it out of his head--nor has his mother--and that between them they can make things intensely disagreeable. Now, if Mr.
Randolph was going to stay here, I should not have an anxious moment.”
”What do you mean?” I cried; ”is Mr. Randolph going away?” A deep depression seemed suddenly to come over me; I could not quite account for it.
”He is, dear; and it is because he must be absent for two or three months that I am really anxious. He will come back again; but sudden and important news obliges him to go to Australia. He is going in a fortnight, and it is that that frets him. You will be left to the tender mercies of Mr. Fanning and Mrs. Fanning, and you have got so much spirit you are sure to offend them both mortally, and then they will leave, and--oh dear, I do think that things are dark. My dear Westenra, I often wonder if we shall pull through after all.”
”That is what I want to speak to you about,” I answered. ”Mr. Fanning came into the drawing-room just now, and was very rude and very unlike a gentleman. I was alone there, and he said he had something to say to me in private, and, of course, I refused to listen. He wanted to insist on my granting him an interview, and said that he could compel me to listen if he chose. Think of any gentleman speaking like that!”
”They don't mind what they say, nor what they do, when they're in love,” muttered Jane.
”I won't allow you to say that,” I answered, springing to my feet; ”the man is intolerable. Jane, he must go; there is no help for it.”
”He must stay, dear, and I cannot disclose all my reasons now.”
I stood clasping and unclasping my hands, and staring at Jane.
”You knew beforehand, did you not, Westenra, that there would be disagreeables connected with this scheme?”
”Of course I knew it; but I never did think that the disagreeables would resolve themselves into Mr. Fanning.”
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