“Won’t you tell me what it is?” he whispered. “We have always been such good friends, Vera. Forgive me asking you, but isn’t this decision on your part rather a sudden one?”
“Oh, I am quite prepared to admit that,” the girl said candidly, “and I wish I could explain. But you would not understand—was there ever a man yet who really understood a woman? The thing that you call impulse … I know that Lord Ravenspur had his own ideas as to my future, the same as he has in regard to yours.”
“Oh, indeed,” Walter said drily; “that is news to me. And in what way is my uncle interested in my welfare?”
“Do you mean to say he hasn’t told you? He has mentioned it to me at least a score of times. You are going to marry Lady Clara Vavasour. That much is settled.”
“Really, now, that is very kind of my uncle. But, unfortunately, I have views of my own on the subject. Lady Clara is a very nice girl, and I understand that she is rich, but she does not appeal to me in the least. My dear Vera, surely you are mistaken. Surely my uncle must have guessed, he could not be so blind as not to see—Vera, dearest, cannot you understand what I mean? Do you suppose that I could possibly have known you all this time without—without—You know, I am certain that you know.”
“Oh, no, no,” Vera cried; “you must not speak like that. I cannot listen to you. I know that Lord Ravenspur has set his heart upon this marriage, and it would be the basest ingratitude on my part if I—but what am I talking about?”
The girl broke off in some confusion. The faint pink on her cheeks turned to a deeper crimson. Her eyes were cast down; she did not seem to realise that Walter had her hands in his, that he had drawn her close to his side.
“I must speak,” he said huskily. “Even at the risk of your thinking me the most conceited man on earth, I must tell you what is uppermost in my mind now. My dear girl, I have known you ever since you were a little child. From the very first we have been the best of friends. I have watched you change from a girl to a woman. I have watched your mind expanding, and gradually I have come to know that you are the one girl in the world for me. I have not spoken like this before, because there seemed to be no need to do so. Everything was so natural, there did not appear to be any other end to a love like mine. But if I have been wrong, and if you tell me that you care nothing for me—”
“I couldn’t,” Vera whispered. “Oh, Walter, if you only knew—”
“Then you do care for me, my dearest. Yes, I can see it in your face, there is always the truth in your eyes. And now I can speak more freely. You were going away from here out of loyalty to my uncle, and because you deem it your duty to sacrifice your feelings rather than interfere with his plans. But, my dear girl, don’t you see what a needless sacrifice it would be? Don’t you see that any such action on your part would be worse than useless? But I will speak to you about this tomorrow. I am quite sure he is not the man to stand between us and our happiness. Would that I had thought of this before. I am sure that it would have saved you many an anxious moment.”
Vera shook her head sadly. Walter’s arms were about her now, her head rested on his shoulder. Just for the moment they were absolutely oblivious to the world. They heard nothing of the sound of voices as Lord Ravenspur’s guests drifted away; they were unconscious that he was standing in the doorway, now regarding them with stern disapproval. He hesitated just a moment, then he strode into the room. Walter had never seen his face so hard and cold before.
“I am sorry to intrude,” he said, “but there is something I have to say to you, Walter. It is getting late now, Vera, and quite time that you were in bed.”
The girl looked up with something like rebellion in her eyes.
“I am going into the drawing-room for half an hour,” she said. “Perhaps Walter will come and say goodnight to me when you have finished your conversation. I think you understand what I mean. And don’t be too hard on me. If you only knew how I have tried to do what—what—”
The tears rose to Vera’s eyes, as she turned slowly and sadly away.
VI
A Voice in the Dark
Vera turned away and walked quietly from the room, leaving the two men face to face. Lord Ravenspur was the first to speak.
“I am sorry for this,” he said; “more sorry than I can tell you. Strange how one should be so wilfully blind. Strange how frequently even the cleverest man will overlook the inevitable. But I suppose I thought that you two had come to regard one another as brother and sister. Oh, I am not disputing your taste. There is not a more beautiful and fascinating girl in London than Vera. It is only natural that you should fall in love with her. But she knows the views I have for you. She knows to what an extent she is indebted to me. That being so it is her plain duty—”
“My dear uncle,” Walter broke in eagerly, “if there is anybody to blame, it is I. Vera knows her duty plainly enough, and she would have acted upon it but for me. When I came in here tonight I
