"I went away, but I came back again shortly afterwards, and, forgive me, child, I overheard a great deal of your scheme, and I remembered my father's words and determined to help you. It was I who sought Jane Mullins. Her people had been old retainers of ours, and she had always worshipped the ground on which I walked. I told her exactly what I meant to do, and she helped me straight through at once. The money which smoothed matters with the landlord and enabled you to take the house, was really my money, money which I had inherited from my mother, but which was invested in Australian stocks. At that time these stocks were paying a high dividend, and everything seemed to be going well; but you had not been three months in the boarding-house before the bank in Melbourne which held such a large amount of my money went smash, and I was obliged to go over to secure what was left. The blow was most sudden, and I had no one to help me. I gave Jane Mullins what little money I had left, and went to Australia. I quite hoped I should be back before—before any great trouble came to you. I rescued a large portion of my money, and hoped that everything was all right. Then came the shipwreck, the danger, the awful fight with death in the hospital, the final home-coming, and now—now I find that I shall never see your mother again. What did she think of my long absence, my enforced silence, Westenra? What did she feel about me?"
"She always hoped you would come back, and she always loved you," I said slowly.
"Did she tell you nothing more?"
No colour could come to my face; my heart was too cold, too bitterly cold, too despairing.
"She told me something more," I said in a whisper. He bent close to me.
"That I love you, darling—that I have loved you from the first moment I saw your face—that I love your courage, and your dear, dear self? I am a wealthy man now, Westenra. Money has come to me while I have been away, and I am a wealthy man and in your set, and—and will you come to me, darling? Will you make me happy—will you? Oh! I know you love me—I feel you do. You will come to me?"
But I started up.
"I cannot," I said.
"You cannot! Then you do not love me?"
I made a great struggle. Never in the whole course of my life did I make a struggle like that. My struggle was to keep my lips closed; but I looked wildly up at Jim, and Jim looked at me, and the next moment, against my will, perhaps against his will, I was in his arms, and my head was on his breast.