"You must make allowance for me if my high spirits carry me away this afternoon, Miss Grahame," Wallace said. "The fact is—and as you are so soon to be a member of the family I can talk freely before you—I have been a very, very bad boy, and a dreadful disgrace to everybody about me. So I was punished, as bad boys ought to be. The worst part of my punishment was the knowledge that I had deeply hurt the best man in the world, and that I was shut out from my old home and my old place in his affections. So this morning I went to him and appealed for another chance; and he, having, as I believe, a corner in his heart somewhere for me, took me home there again. That is the reason of my gaiety to-day, cousin Lina, and I feel sure you will sympathise with me and understand."
As Wallace spoke he laid his hand, with what looked like spontaneous affection, upon that of his uncle, to the left of whom he was sitting. Old Alexander grasped his hand warmly and tears filled his eyes. But the little scene failed altogether to move Laline, who felt only indignant that the simple-natured and kindly old man should be so flagrantly deceived in his worthless nephew, whose sneers and gibes at his uncle's expense were still fresh in her mind.
Lorin for his part talked very little. He had considerable difficulty in concealing his deep annoyance at the attitude which Wallace had adopted towards Laline. He had opposed as strongly as he could the suggestion that Wallace should form one of the luncheon-party that day. Knowing his cousin's record, he disliked the idea that anything approaching familiar friendship should be instituted between his cousin and the woman he loved. Lorin's sense of character was as keen as that of his uncle was deficient. Wallace's pretended affection and pretended reformation in no way deceived him, and, although, from the associations of his boyhood, he still retained some little love for the scapegrace elder who had taught him cricket and football years ago, experience had taught him that no reliance was to be placed in Wallace's honour or Wallace's word.
He grew hot with indignation, therefore, when he marked the insolent admiration in his cousin's gaze, and heard the familiar "cousin Lina" he addressed to Laline. One of Wallace's favourite boasts was that he could fascinate any woman if he choose to try, and beautiful, pure-minded Laline would not be the first woman who has been temporarily attracted by a plausible scamp.
It was clear to Lorin that, since his cousin's visit to Mrs. Vandeleur's house on the preceding day, Laline had changed towards him. All their talk during their foggy walk in the Park after church had been of deferring their marriage, and to-day her manner towards him was strangely cold and absent. He had surprised her with his cousin's hand on her arm, an incident concerning which neither she nor Wallace had volunteered the slightest explanation, and even now she was passively receiving his flattery and thinly-veiled love-making without any evident signs of disapproval. Not one look, not one word had he a chance of exchanging with her unnoticed by his cousin, although there was very much that he was longing to communicate to her. He had hoped that the occasion of seeing her home might give him the opportunity he longed for; but his presence was required in the bank that afternoon, and old Alexander was loath to let Laline leave so early.
"Even if Lorin is busy, and Wallace here finds for once something useful to do, my dear," he said, "you can stay and have a cup of tea with me at four o'clock, can't you?"
"I have nothing more useful or more pleasant to do than to stay also," Wallace was beginning, when Laline cut him short.
"I will stay alone with you, Mr. Wallace," she said. "You and I can have a nice quiet tête-à-tête together."
The idea had been strengthening in her mind ever since her arrival that by old Alexander's assistance she might contrive to break her engagement. The presence of Wallace, looming large and aggressive upon her mental horizon, made all hope of association with his cousin impossible. Laline was suffering acutely. The watchfulness of Wallace's bold eyes incessantly fixed upon her face wrought her to such a pitch of nervous excitement that she was hardly conscious of what she said or did. The man exercised a magnetic power over her, so that, much as she disliked and even detested him, she was profoundly affected by his presence. A knowledge of the suffering she would shortly bring upon Lorin increased her distress of mind; she felt she dared not look in his face, lest her glance should be intercepted, or lest he should read in her eyes the consciousness that she was deceiving him.
Yet the very strength of her love and pity for Lorin, and the necessity for putting a severe curb upon her emotions, made her manner of parting with him seem strangely cold.