Jack was taken by surprise, and returned the greeting cordially; indeed, what else could he do, seeing that he was in Stephen’s mother’s house, and making love to Stephen’s protegee?
“Quite a surprise!” said Stephen, laughing; and then, still talking to Jack, he crossed over and bent down to kiss his mother. “How do you do, my dear mother? Now don’t be angry at my taking you so unexpectedly.”
“Angry, my dear Stephen!” faltered Mrs. Davenant; and indeed, it was not anger so much as fear that shone in the timid eyes.
Then, having got himself completely under control, Stephen raised his eyes to Una, and held out his hand.
“And how do you do, Miss Rolfe? I hope your health has not suffered in this close London of ours. May I say that there are no signs of such an ill result in your face?”
Una gave him her hand, and smiled at him in her quiet, grave way.
“I am very well, thank you,” she said.
“That’s right,” said Stephen—“that’s right!”
And he stood and looked from one to the other, rubbing his white, soft hands, and smiling as if he were over-running with the milk of human kindness.
Meanwhile Mrs. Davenant had risen, and was fluttering about nervously.