“No, not for money alone,” murmured Stephen. “Jack is too high-minded to be guilty of such meanness; but is it not possible to marry for love and money, too, Lady Bell?”
Lady Bell turned her head aside; her heart beating fast. The voice of the tempter sounded like music in her ear. Why should not he marry for love as well as money? She had both. She loved him passionately, and she would pour her money at his feet to do as he liked with; to squander and make ducks and drakes of, if he would but give her a little love in return.
As she looked across the room at him, that awful, wistful longing which only a woman who loves with all her heart can feel, took possession of her and mastered her.
“Why do you tell me this?” she asked, sharply turning her face, pale and working.
“Because,” murmured Stephen, “because I have Jack’s interest so much at heart that I am bold enough to ask for aid where I know it can be of avail.”
“Do you mean that you ask me?” she said, tremulously. “What can I do?”
“Much, everything,” he whispered, his head bent low, almost to her ear. “Ask yourself, dear Lady Bell, and you will understand me. Let me be plain and straightforward, even at the risk of offending you. There was a time, not many months ago, when I and his best friends thought Jack had made a choice at once happy and wise.”
Lady Bell rose and moved to and fro, and then sank down again trembling with agitation.
“You mean that—that he was falling in love with me?”
Stephen inclined his head with lowered eyes.