Part 28 (2/2)

”Yes,” said Jacinta quietly. ”Still, I hadn't the faintest notion a little while ago. I shall try to bear anything you may think fit to say to me. Mr. Austin, I understand, is a friend of yours.”

The little lady smiled, for she saw that Jacinta was clever enough to make no excuses, and she appreciated her candour as well as her good sense.

”Well,” she said, ”I want you to tell me why you sent him to Africa.”

”For one thing, because Muriel was once very kind to me. Mr. Jefferson was down with fever, and I fancied that, in any case, he could do a good deal more with a comrade there. Still, that was not all. There were other reasons.”

”Naturally. It is gratifying to discover how far a man's devotion will carry him.”

A little flash crept into Jacinta's eyes, but it faded again. ”I suppose I deserve that, but you are wrong. It wasn't to soothe my vanity.”

”No?” and there was a suggestion of incredulity in Mrs. Hatherly's smile. ”Still, one may be excused for pointing out that it really looks very like it.”

Jacinta made a little movement with her fan. ”You can't think worse of me than I do of myself; but I scarcely fancy I did wrong in sending him.

He was wasting his life here, and I thought I knew what there was in him. I wanted to rouse it--to waken him. You see, I am talking very frankly.”

”In that case it must have cost you something to send him to Africa?”

The colour showed plainly in Jacinta's face. ”I think that is another question. One, too, which you could scarcely expect me to answer you.”

”I'm afraid it was not very delicate,” and Mrs. Hatherly's eyes grew gentler. ”Still, didn't you feel that you were presumptuous?”

”Of course; but I have always done what pleased me, and made others do it, too. It usually turned out well, you know. I have, however, come to grief this time, and it would almost be a relief if somebody would shake me.”

Mrs. Hatherly smiled. ”I fancy the feeling will do you good. Still, if you were right in sending Mr. Austin out, it is just a little incomprehensible.”

”Then you don't know how I treated him?”

”No,” said Mrs. Hatherly. ”At least, not exactly. He only admitted that you did not seem very pleased to see him. Still, I am an old woman, and that naturally conveyed a good deal to me. Perhaps you do deserve shaking, but I want to be kind.”

Jacinta turned to her with the colour in her cheeks and a haziness in her eyes.

”I taunted him with being a coward and finding the work too hard for him. The man was ill and jaded, but I had no mercy on him. He said nothing; he never told me he was going back. How was I to know? The night my father's message came I felt I could have struck him. If I had done so, he would probably not have felt it half so much as the bitterness I heaped upon him.”

”Ah!” said Mrs. Hatherly. ”It was, perhaps, natural under the circ.u.mstances, but there is a good deal that you are responsible for.”

”What do you mean by under the circ.u.mstances?”

Mrs. Hatherly smiled. ”I have not the slightest doubt that you quite understand, my dear. The question, however, is how you are going to set it right?”

Jacinta s.h.i.+vered a little. The colour had already ebbed from her face, which was a trifle more pallid than usual.

”It is a thing I may never be able to do,” she said. ”That is what makes it so hard. You see, a good many men go out to Africa, and so few come back again. If it hadn't been for that I don't think I should have admitted what I have done, but I feel I must have somebody's comprehension--if I can't expect sympathy.”

”You have mine, my dear,” and Mrs. Hatherly laid a beautiful thin hand gently upon her arm. ”Besides, I think Mr. Austin will understand how it came about when he goes back to Africa.”

Jacinta straightened herself slowly. ”Well,” she said, ”that may happen, and in any case I know that I sent him, and he was glad to go.”

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