Stephen, if I had had a
mother, do you think I should have deceived her also?”[55]
“Deceived? Deceived is too harsh a word, my dear
Laura. We have been obliged, for various reasons, to use
some reserve—let us say candidly, to conceal our engagement.
You have not mentioned my name to anyone?”
he broke off.
“To no one,” she answered.
“Such concealment was necessary. My uncle was a
man of rough and hasty temper, ill-judging and merciless.”
“But,” she said, with a sudden eagerness, and a slight
shudder, “he—he is dead now, Stephen. There is no
need for further concealment.”
“Softly, softly, dear Laura. We must be patient—must
keep our little secret a little while longer. I can
trust my darling to confide in me—yes, yes, I know
that——”
“Stephen, to-night for the first time—why, I know
not—I have doubted—no, not doubted, for I have fought
hard against the suspicion that I was wrong to trust
you.”
“My dearest!” he murmured reproachfully.
“You were wrong to leave me for so long without a word—you
put my love to too severe a test. I—I cannot say
whether it has stood it or not. To-night I am full of
doubt. Stephen—look at me!”
He turned his face and looked down. He had not far
to look, for she was tall, and in the moment of excitement
had drawn herself to her full height. The moon, sailing
from amongst the clouds, shone on her upturned face;
her lips were set, and the dark eyes gleamed from the
white face.
“Look at me, Stephen. If—I say if—there is the
faintest idea of treachery lurking in your mind——”
“My dearest——”
“Cast it out! Here, to-night, I warn you to cast it
out! Such love as mine is like a two-edged sword, it
cuts both ways, for love—or hate! Stephen, I have loved,
I have trusted you—for mine, for your own sake, be true
to me!”
He was more impressed than alarmed. This side of
her character had been presented to him to-night for the[56]
first time. Hitherto the beautiful girl had been all smiles
and humble devotion. Was she bewitched, or had he been
mistaken in her. Perhaps it was the moon, but suddenly
his face looked paler than ever, and the white eyelids
drooped until they hid the shifting eyes, as he put his
arm around her.
“My dearest! What can you mean? Deceive you!
Treachery! Can you deem me—me—capable of such
things. My dearest, you are overtired! And your
jacket has become unbuttoned. Listen, that is the railway
bell. Laura, you will not leave me with such words on
your lips?”
“Forgive me, Stephen.”
“I have done so already, dearest, and now we must
part! It is very hard—but—I cannot even go with you to
the platform. Someone might see us. It is for your sake,
darling.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” she said, with a sigh. “Good-bye—you
will write or come to me—when?”
“Soon, in a day or two,” he said. “Do not be impatient.
There is much to be done; my poor uncle’s
funeral, you know. Good-bye. See! I will stay here and
watch the train off. Good-bye, dear, dear Laura!”
She put her arm round him and returned his kiss, and
glided away, but at the turn of the road leading to the
station she turned and, holding up her hand, sent a word
back to him.
It was:
“Remember!”
Stephen waited until the train puffed out of the station,
and not until it had flashed some distance did the set
smile leave his face.
Then, with a rather puzzled and uneasy expression, he
turned and walked swiftly back to the house.
His brain was in a whirl, the sudden appearance of
the young girl coming on the top of the other causes
of excitement bewildered him, and he felt that he had
need of all his accustomed coolness. The sudden peril
and danger of this accursed will demanded all his attention,
and yet the thought of the girl would force itself
upon him. He had met her, as she had said, in the[57]
streets, and had commenced an acquaintance which had
resulted in an engagement. Alone and unprotected, save
for an old grandfather, and innocent of the world, Laura
Treherne had been, as it were, fascinated by the smooth,
soft-spoken Stephen, from whose ready tongue vows of
love and devotion rolled as easily as the scales from a
serpent in spring-time. And he, for his part, was smitten
by the dark eyes and quick, impulsive way of the warm-hearted
girl.
But there had come upon him of late a suspicion that
in binding himself to marry her he had committed a
false step; to-night the suspicion grew into something
like certainty.
To tell the truth, she had almost frightened him.
Hitherto the dark eyes had ever turned on his with
softened gaze of love and admiration; to-night, for the
first time, the hot, passionate nature had revealed itself.
The deep-toned “Remember!” which came floating down
the lane as she disappeared rang unpleasantly in his ears.
Had he been a true-hearted man the girl’s spirit would
have made her more precious in his eyes; but, coward-like,
he felt that hers was a stronger nature than his,
and he began to fear.
“Yes,” he muttered, as he unlocked the library window,
and sank into a chair.
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