"I don't wonder," was Spencer's comment. "Now, about this little matter we have been speaking of. I think it would be better if I paid this money into your bank, and left you to make your own arrangements. I suppose you have a bank?"
Yes, Miss Keane had a banking-account, a very small one. She smilingly remarked that it would give the manager a shock when such a large sum was paid into it.
"I will draw the money in cash to-morrow and bring it to you," said Spencer. "Then nobody will be able to guess from whom it comes."
He rose, he could not trust himself to stay very much longer. At any moment his reserve might break down. He might be impelled to change the rôle of the benevolent friend into that of the ardent lover.
And for a long time after he had left, Stella Keane sat absorbed in the most serious thoughts.
There was no doubt he was ardently in love with her. But he was not yet quite prepared to screw up his courage to the sticking place.
It was easy to understand. The obligations he owed his family were weighing on his mind.
The woman he made his wife would one day be the Countess of Southleigh. He had to think of all this. And all he knew about her was learned from her own statement, and she had a cousin who was, from his point of view, certainly not a gentleman.
Above all things, Stella Keane was a very business-like young woman, and never shrank from looking facts squarely in the face. She must play a waiting game. Guy Spencer was very deeply in love, but he was not a hotheaded, impetuous boy, the sort of amorous youth who runs off with a chorus girl, regardless of consequences. Lovers of this kind were very rarely met with.
If Guy Spencer did marry her, and she could not at the moment be sure he would, he would be fully conscious of the disadvantages to himself entailed by such a marriage. Would her fascination be strong enough to conquer his better judgment?