Jack’s ardor cooled at once, and the old disgust and suspicion rose; but he choked them down again, and sat down.
“Not a word more,” said Stephen, with a gulp, as if he were swallowing a flood of tears. “I have long, long felt your coldness and distrust, my dear Jack, but I vowed to live it down, and prove to you that you have wronged me. Believe me that my good fortune—my unexpected fortune—was quite imbittered to me by the thought that you would misjudge me.”
Jack pulled at his cigar grimly. Stephen was on the wrong track, and he saw it, and hastened to change it.
“But now, my dear Jack, we shall understand each other. You will believe me that I have your welfare deeply at heart. Who else have I to think of—except my mother, my dear mother? And we may conclude that our little negotiation as suitor and guardian is ended. Eh, Jack? You shall have the appointment and Una—lucky fellow that you are—and I shall be rewarded by seeing you happy.”
Jack nodded. The mention of Una had filled him with gratitude. He could not forget that he owed her in two ways to Stephen.
“You are a good fellow, Stephen,” he said, “and you deserve your luck. After all, you’ll make a better master of Hurst than I should. You’ll take care of it.”
Stephen sighed. He was going to gloat again.
“I don’t know. I wish to do my duty. It is an immense sum of money, Jack; immense.”
Jack nodded again.
“I’m glad of it,” he said, easily. “I don’t envy you. I did once, and not very long ago. But I rank Una above the Hurst even, and if I have her, you are welcome to the Hurst.”