All through the watches of the night the pale, dark face haunted him. At times he saw it peering at him through the library window, at others it was pursuing him along an endless road; but always it wore a threatening aspect and filled him with a vague terror.
Some men’s conscience only awake at night.
CHAPTER XXXII.
If Una had been a queen visiting some distant part of her realm, more elaborate preparations for her amusement could not have been made.
Not a day passed but Stephen had got some proposition for pleasuring, and he never tired of hunting up some place to go.
One morning they would drive to some romantic and historic spot; another there would be some flower show or fete, which he insisted upon them seeing; on others, they would play lawn tennis in the now beautiful grounds. The fame of the new Hurst had spread abroad, and those of the county families who were in residence called at once, and dinner parties were given and accepted. So the week glided by quickly, even to Una, who reckoned time by the day on which she would see Jack.
Every morning there came a scrawl—Jack’s handwriting was mysterious and terrible—from him; in every letter he expressed his longing to see her, and the hateful time he was having in town. But every letter had some mention of Lady Bell; and it was evident that he spent most of his time at Park Lane.
But Una was not jealous—she put away from her resolutely any feeling of that kind.
“I am so glad that Lady Bell is in town, and that Jack has some place to go to,” she said to Mrs. Davenant.