Una rose, and without a word put her hand in his, her eyes downcast, lest the love which beamed in them should escape against her will.
“Yes,” said Jack, “I have had the pleasure of meeting Miss Rolfe once or twice lately.”
Then he turned away from her and began talking to Mrs. Davenant, as if Una were not in the room.
It was just what Una wanted. She felt that she could not speak, and for the present it was happiness enough to have him in the same room with her, and to hear his voice.
And Mrs. Davenant, now that the first shock was over, was glad enough to sit down and listen to the frank, musical voice—so unlike Stephen’s measured, modulated tone.
Presently she said in a low, nervous tone:
“Jack, I am so sorry!”
Jack nodded, and his face dropped.
“About the poor squire? Yes! Never mind. It is all right. No! It’s all wrong for me, but all right for Stephen.”
“But Stephen doesn’t—doesn’t want it all,” she murmured.