Part 30 (2/2)

”I expect you are tired with them now, my dear. Come and sit down with me for a little while.”

Jessica raised her dark eyes gratefully.

”No, ma'am, thank you. I'm not tired. I love the children; they are so good to me.”

Lucy's eyes shone. What mother does not believe that her children are the best in the world? She had been like an angel of mercy to the tired girl when her husband had brought her into the little home. She had put her to bed, fed her, and clothed her in old things of her own; and she had neither questioned nor worried her since.

Jessica, only too thankful to find a home for the present, and realising the hopelessness of her strange pa.s.sion for Adrien Leroy, had done what she could to repay her benefactress by helping her in the little shop, and playing with and taking care of the children. Now, at their request, she took them back to the river side again, while Lucy sat down at the table before a pile of sewing.

CHAPTER XX

Meanwhile, Adrien's skiff was moored at the landing-place of an old inn, some distance further up the river. Under a rustic porch Lady Merivale was finis.h.i.+ng her tea, while her companion enjoyed a cigarette.

Alas! for the irony of fate! This day, during which he had strenuously endeavoured to forget Constance, had only shown him more plainly the utter impossibility of doing so. If he had but known the opportunity he had missed with that letter, his mortification and despair would have been even greater.

Constance had regretted her policy in sending Adrien from her almost before the day was over, and had purposely planned this way of seeing him. Deeming his outing--thanks to Jasper's clever insinuations--to have been undertaken on purpose to avoid her, the girl's heart was heavy within her, and filled with something very like resentment too.

Adrien, on the other hand, all unwitting of the harm this excursion had done his cause, had talked long and quietly with Lady Merivale. He had made up his mind to break away even from these silken strings.

”So you have determined to leave me?” she said sadly.

He nodded.

”You know I must,” he replied. ”For your sake, as well as mine, it is best.”

”Perhaps you are right,” she said in a low voice. ”So this is the last happy day we shall spend together?”

”Yes,” he answered with a sigh. ”Now, standing here, I see only too well that we ought never to have spent any at all. I dread lest I have spoilt your happiness, Eveline, lest a breath of slander should touch your name. I will not deny that I had of late hoped to marry and settle down as my father wishes, but it is not to be. Don't laugh at me when I tell you I am going to turn over a new leaf. After this ball at Barminster, I shall go abroad for awhile. That will give the world time to forget we have ever had more than a pa.s.sing acquaintance.”

Tears rolled down Eveline's face as she listened to his words. She had played her last card, and she knew the game was lost; though it was her vanity that suffered more than her heart. She was too clever and too proud to resist any further, however, or sue for his favour. Presently she rose, and said, as steadily as usual:

”Come, Adrien, let us turn down stream and retrace our way while we can see. It is dusk already--I had no idea it had grown so late.”

He helped her into the little skiff in silence; and as the Sea Foam glided over the rippling waters a profound stillness seemed to descend over the darkening landscape.

Presently Lady Merivale peered forward.

”This half-light is so deceptive,” she said, in a rather nervous voice; ”I nearly steered you into the bank then.”

”Can you see?” he asked. ”Put down the lines and let me guide the boat.”

”No, no,” she replied. ”I can see well enough.”

”Just as you like,” he said gently. ”I will row quicker. It's time we were in Hampton. For what hour did you order the car?”

”I came by train,” she answered.

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