“Good!” said Gideon Rolfe. “Then I go to the girl and acquaint her with the true story of her birth. If I know her—and I do—she has sufficient pride to prevent her staining so honorable a family as the Davenants by marrying into it,” and he sneered bitterly.
Jack’s face flushed.
“You professed to love her,” he said. “Are you totally indifferent to her happiness?”
“No happiness could follow her union to one of your race,” said Gideon Rolfe.
Stephen trembled. He was playing a dangerous and desperate game. A word from Rolfe might put Jack in possession of Una’s real parentage, and Stephen would be ruined.
“My dear Jack,” he said, sorrowfully, “I have besought Mr. Rolfe, almost on my knees, to hold his hand, but he is like stone—immovable.”
There was a pause.
Jack stood, his brain in a whirl, his heart beating wildly. His frenzied brain saw the whole thing clearly. On one side stood his passionate love and his life-long happiness, on the other Una’s shame and agony.
“I love her so!” he moaned.
“You say that you love her,” said Gideon Rolfe, sternly. “Prove it by saving her from the knowledge of the shame which clings to her name. If your love is worth anything it will make that sacrifice. Remember, it is on your side only. She is young—a mere girl, a few weeks, months at most, and she will have learned to forget you.”