III
"Great Scotland!" said Jerry.
He looked up from a letter, and gazed at his sister with starting eyes.
"Oh, what?" she exclaimed in alarm.
He sprang up impetuously, and went round the table to her. They were breakfasting in the tiny flat which was theirs for but three short months longer.
"Guess!" he said. "No, don't! I can't wait. It's the family luck, old girl, turned at last! It's the original gorgeous chance again with a practical dead certainty pushing behind. It's the Winhalla Railway turning up trumps just in time."
And, with a whoop that might have been heard from garret to basement, Jerry swept his sister from her chair, and waltzed her giddily round the little room till she cried breathlessly for mercy.
"Oh, but do tell me!" she gasped, when he set her down again. "I want to understand, Jerry. Don't be so mad. Tell me exactly what has happened!"
"I'll tell you," said Jerry, sitting down on the tablecloth. "It's a letter from Gardner—my broker and man of business generally—written last night to tell me that one of these swaggering capitalists has got hold of the Winhalla Railway scheme, and is going to make things hum. Shares are going up already; and they'll run sky high by the end of the week. It's bound to be all right. It was always sound enough. It only wanted capital. He doesn't tell me the bounder's name, but that's no matter. I don't want to go into partnership. I shall sell, sell, sell, at the top of the boom. Gardner's to be trusted. He'll know—and then—and then——"
"Yes; what does it mean?" the girl broke in. "I want to know exactly, Jerry!"
"Mean?" he echoed, his hands upon her shoulders. "It means emancipation, wealth, everything we've lost back again, and more to it! Now do you understand?"
She gasped for breath. She had turned very pale.
"Oh, Jerry!" she said tragically. "Jerry, why didn't this happen before?"
He stared at her for a moment. Then, as understanding came to him, he frowned with swift impatience.
"Oh, that must be broken off!" he said. "You can't marry that fellow now. Why should you?"
Violet shook her head hopelessly.
"I've promised," she said; "promised to marry him at the end of next month."
Jerry jumped up impulsively.
"But that's soon arranged," he declared. "Leave it to me. I'll explain."
"How can you?" questioned Violet.
"I shall put it on a purely business footing," he returned airily. "Don't you worry yourself. He isn't the sort of chap to take it to heart. You know that as well as I do. Perhaps it might be as well to wait till the end of the week and make sure of things, though, before I say anything."
But at this point Violet gave him the biggest surprise he had ever known. She sprang to her feet with flashing eyes.
"Indeed you won't, Jerry!" she exclaimed. "You will tell him to-day—this morning—and end it definitely. Never mind what happens afterwards. I won't carry the dishonourable bargain to that length. I've little enough self-respect left, but what there is of it I'll keep!"
"Heavens above!" ejaculated Jerry, in amazement. "What's the matter now? I was only thinking of you, after all."
"I know you were," she answered passionately. "But you're to think of something greater than my physical welfare. You're to think of my miserable little rag of honour, and do what you can for that, if you really want to help me!"
And with that she went quickly from the room and left him to breakfast alone.
He marvelled for a little at her agitation, and then the contents of the letter absorbed him again. He had better go and see Gardner, he reflected; and then, if the thing really seemed secure, he would take Dick Kenyon on his way back—perhaps lunch with him, and explain matters in a friendly way. There was certainly nothing for Violet to make a fuss about. He was quite fully convinced that the fellow wouldn't care. Marriage was a mere incident to men of his stamp.
So, cheerily at length, having disposed of his breakfast, he rose, collected his correspondence, which consisted for the most part of bills, and, whistling light-heartedly, took his departure.