“No, no, you frighten me!” she murmured, as Jack’s arm drew her toward him again.
“My darling! There!” and he kissed her hands. “How can I do it? It is too much to ask of mortal man.”
“Do what?” she murmured.
Jack’s face paled.
“Nothing—nothing,” he said.
“And are you really going to stay?” she murmured, her eyes beaming with pleasure.
“Yes,” he said, “I came on purpose. If she had not asked me I meant to ask her.”
“And you love her, don’t you? Is she not good—and isn’t it cruel to deceive her,” said Una, and she hung her head.
“She’s the dearest old lady in the world,” said Jack, enthusiastically, who would have loved a gorilla, much less Mrs. Davenant, if it had been kind to Una. “Why, she was a second mother to me until Stephen grew up—and she has been kind to you. I can see that for myself. But you must tell me all about it—all about everything tonight. Think, my darling! we shall be together here all the evening! No noisy crowd to prevent us talking—no interference. I shall want to know everything. Hush! here she comes,” and with another swift kiss he rose and went into the next room. Una stole out and upstairs to dress.
Quite unsuspicious, Mrs. Davenant came back smiling. She had ordered one or two of Jack’s favorite dishes, and had come to ask him about the claret.