Part 72 (1/2)

”Where to?” said the cabman, and Jack, half absently, answered:

”Park Lane.”

The man had often driven him before, and he drove straight to Lady Bell's.

Jack walked into the drawing-room quite naturally--the room was familiar to him--and sat down before the fire; and Lady Bell came in with outstretched hand.

It was a comfort to have someone left, and Jack greeted her warmly, more warmly than he knew or intended. Lady Bell's face flushed as he held her hand longer than was absolutely necessary.

”Thank Heaven! there is someone left,” he said, devoutly. ”They have all gone, and Len is out, and----”

”I am left,” said Lady Bell. ”Well, you are just in time for luncheon. I half expected you, and I have told them to make a curry.”

Curry was one of Jack's weaknesses.

”That is very kind of you,” he said, gratefully. He felt, very unreasonably, neglected somehow. ”You always seem to know what a fellow likes.”

”That's because I have a good memory,” said Lady Bell, smiling down at him. ”I shall take care to have plenty of curries at Earl's Court. And, by the way, will you choose a paper for the smoking-room down there? I have told them that they must do it at once.”

Jack rose without a word; he had been choosing papers and decorations for a week past, and it did not seem strange. Luncheon was announced while they were discussing the paper, and Jack gave her his arm. Mrs.

Fellowes was the only other person present, and she sat reading a novel, deaf and blind to all else. Not but what she might have heard every word, for the young people talked of the most commonplace subjects, and Jack was very absent-minded, thinking of Una, and quite unconscious of the light which beamed in Lady Bell's eyes when they rested on him.

Then they rode in the Row; he could do no less than offer to accompany her, and Mrs. Fellowes wanted to see a piece at one of the theaters, and Jack went to book seats, and took one for himself, and sat staring at the stage and thinking of Una; but he sat behind Lady Bell's chair, and spoke to her occasionally, and Lady Bell was content.

Hetley and Arkroyd were in the stalls, and saw him.

”Jack's making the running,” said Lord Dalrymple, eying the box through his opera gla.s.s. ”He's the winning horse, and we, the field, are nowhere.”

And not only those two, but many others, remarked on Jack's close attendance on the great heiress, and not a few who would have gone to the box if he had not been there, kept away.

Meanwhile, Jack, simple, unsuspecting Jack, was bestowing scarcely a thought on the beautiful woman by his side, and thinking of Una miles away.

The theater over, and Lady Bell put into the carriage, he looked in at the club, sauntered into the card-room, smoked a cigar in the smoking-room, and then went home to Spider Court.

Much to his surprise he found Leonard up, not only up, but pacing the room, his face flushed and agitated.

”Hallo!” exclaimed Jack, ”what's the matter? And where on earth have you been?”

”Jack, I have found her!”

”That's just what I said some months ago!”

”Yes, I know. I have been thinking how strangely alike our love affairs have been. It is my turn now. I have found her!”

”What, this young lady, Laura Treherne?”

”Yes,” said Leonard, with a long breath.

”Tell me all about it,” said Jack. ”Hold hard a minute, till I get something to drink. Now, fire away.”