“Thanks, I could not,” she said, simply.
Stephen motioned to his mother.
“See that she takes some,” he said, in a low voice. “I will go and look after the horses,” and he turned. As he did so the door opened, and a lady entered.
For a moment, in the dim light of the low room, Stephen did not recognize her, then a chill fell on him as if a cold hand had laid on his heart. He staggered back, and then she raised her veil and looked at him.
Not a word passed. Face to face, eye to eye, they stood. A moment passed. Una had not looked round, only Mrs. Davenant stood speechless and trembling. Then, as if with an effort, Stephen regained possession of his quaking soul, and stole nearer to her.
“Laura,” he whispered, glancing behind him. “You here? You want me? Well, let us come outside.”
A smile, calm and scornful, flashed from her dark face.
“You cannot pass,” she said.
A wild devil leaped, full grown, into his bosom, and he raised his hand to strike her, but the next instant he was grasped by the shoulder and flung aside, and Gideon Rolfe stood over him.
The room whirled round; scarcely conscious that other figures had entered and surrounded him, he staggered to his feet. Then a cry, two words, “Father! Jack!” smote upon his ear, and with an effort he turned and saw Jack’s tall form towering in the low room, with Una clasped tightly, lying prone in his arms.