"My--my hand--" she said.
And he, not understanding for the moment, looked at her, and then suddenly understanding came to him.
"You--you mean?"
"You--you did not answer my letter, and I--I waited," she said, and her voice was low and m.u.f.fled. There was no pride in her face now; all its hardness, all its bitterness and scorn were gone.
"I waited and waited--and thought--hoped," she said, "and nothing came.
And yesterday a man--a man I like and admire, a fine man, a good man, honest and n.o.ble, a man who--who loves me better than I deserve, came to me--and--and so to-day it is too late! Though," she cried, with a touch of scorn for herself, "it would have made no difference--nothing would have made any difference. You--you understand that I scarcely know what I am saying!"
"You have given your promise to another man?" he asked quietly.
"Yes!"
"And you do not love him?"
"He"s a man," she cried, "a man who would not make a jest of a woman"s name."
"And even so, you do not love him, because that would not be possible."
"You have no right to say that," and she wrenched her hand free.
"I have the right, the right you gave me."
"I--I gave you no right."
"You have. You gave me that right, Joan, when you gave me your heart.
You do not love that man, because you love me!"
Back into the white face came all the hardness and coldness that he so well knew. She rose; she looked down on him.
"It is--untrue. I do not. I have but one feeling for you always--always--the same, the one feeling. I despise you. How could I love a thing that I despise?"
And, knowing that it was a lie, she dared not meet the scrutiny of his eyes, and turned quickly away.
"Joan!" he said. He would have followed her, but then came the waiter with his bill, and he was forced to stay, and when he reached the street she was gone.
"I quite thought that they were going to make it up, and then it seemed that they quarrelled again," one of the ladies at the other table said.
The other nodded. "I think that they do not know their own minds, young people seldom do. I wish I had bought three yards more of that cerise ninon. It would have made up so well for Violet, don"t you think?"
CHAPTER XXVI
MR. ALSTON CALLS
Mr. Philip Slotman sat in his office; he was slowly deciphering a letter, ill-written and badly spelled.
"DEAR SIR,
"According to promise I am writing to you hopeing it finds you as it leaves me at present. Dear sir, having some news I am writing to tell you saime. Yesterday Mr. John Everard of Buddesby was here and him and Miss Jone was in the garden for a long time. I seen them from my window, but could not get near enuff to hear. Anyhow I see him kissing her hand. Laiter, after he had gone, I seen Miss Jone and Mrs. Everard together, and listened as best I could. From what I heard I imadgined that Miss Jone and Mr. John Everard is now engaged to be married, which Mrs. Everard seems very pleased to hear.
"This morning Miss Jone gets a letter and the postmark is Hurst Dormer, like you told me to look out for. She is now gone to London. Please send money in accordance with promise and I will write and tell you all the news as soon as there is any more.
"Youres truley, "MISS ALICE BETTS."
The door opened, a boy clerk came in. Slotman thrust the letter he had been reading into an open drawer.
"What is it? What do you want?"
"A gentleman to see you, sir. Mr. Alston from--"
"I can"t see him!" Slotman said quickly. "Tell him I am out, and that--"
"I am already here, and you are going to see me." Hugh Alston came in.
"You can go!" to the boy, who hesitated. "You hear me, you can go!"
Hugh closed the door after the lad.
"You"re not going to be too busy to see me this morning, Slotman, for I have interesting things to discuss with you."
"I am a busy man," Slotman began nervously.
"Very!" said Hugh--"very, so I hear."
He stepped into the room, and faced Slotman across the paper-littered table.
"I have been hearing about some of your enterprises," he said, and there was that in his face that caused Mr. Slotman a feeling of insecurity and uneasiness. "One of them is blackmail!"
"How dare--" Slotman began, with an attempt at bl.u.s.ter.
"That"s what I am here for; to dare. You have been blackmailing a young lady whose name we need not mention. You have obtained the sum of three thousand pounds from her, by means of threats. I want that money--and more; I want a declaration from you that you will never molest her again; for if you do--if you do--"
Hugh"s face was not good to see, and Mr. Slotman quivered uneasily in his chair.
"The--the money was lent to me. Miss Meredyth worked for me, and--and I went to her, explaining that my business was in a precarious condition, and she very kindly lent me the money. And I haven"t got it, Mr. Alston.
I"ll swear I haven"t a penny of it left. I could not repay it if I wanted to; it--it was a friendly loan."
Slotman leaned back in his chair; he looked at Hugh.
"You have done me a cruel wrong, Mr. Alston," he said, in the tone of a deeply injured man. "Miss Meredyth worked for me, and while she was here I respected her, even more." He paused. "At any rate I respected her.
She attracted me, and, I will confess it, I fell in love with her. She was poor; she had nothing then to tempt a fortune hunter, and thank Heaven I can say I was never that. I asked her to be my wife, no man could do more, no man could act more honourably. You"ll admit that, eh?
You must admit that?"
"And she refused you?"