A Son of Perdition: An Occult Romance. Hume Fergus

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she answered after a short pause. "I can guess your meaning. When we shook hands we were drawn together by – well, I can't say."

      "By the friendship of the past!"

      "Yes," she hesitated; "I suppose so! But other people would think we were talking sad nonsense, Mr. Montrose."

      "What does it matter what other people think?" said the young man calmly.

      "Not much. But one has to consider the world in which one lives."

      "Mrs. Barrast?"

      "No! No! No!" Alice laughed outright and rose, as she felt that he was getting on altogether too fast. "She is very tolerant."

      "That is something in her favour, considering how narrow people are as a rule in this world." Montrose got on his feet also. "Before we join her and Eberstein, let me hear you assure me that you do not look upon me as a grasping enemy who has taken your father's money."

      "I assure you of that certainly," said the girl frankly, and gave him her hand with a smile. "If you had not mentioned the subject I should never have referred to it. Keep the money, Mr. Montrose, and make what use you will of it. Both my father and myself are quite content," and she said this about Enistor once more, entirely unaware of its falsity.

      "You are good," said Montrose impetuously. "Few people would take a loss so kindly."

      "Well, like yourself I cannot get up any enthusiasm about money. Come, let us join Mrs. Barrast."

      "One moment. Shall I see you again?"

      "If you like. I am staying here for a few weeks!"

      "If I like." The young man's face was eloquent and the look in his eyes betrayed his heart to Alice in a moment. With a laugh to hide her confusion she turned away to join her hostess, and came face to face with Dr. Eberstein.

      "Well met, Miss Enistor," said the elder man in a genial manner and staring at her very directly. "I was just coming to take Montrose away."

      "Yes," called out Mrs. Barrast, "he is going, and at eleven o'clock too. So very early. What can we do with the rest of the evening?"

      "I advise bed," said Eberstein pointedly.

      "Bed for me," endorsed Alice gaily. "I feel rather tired."

      "I don't think you do," said the doctor calmly: and to Miss Enistor's surprise on consideration she did not. But as he spoke she again felt a wave of that strange uplifting influence and drew back, startled to find that it emanated from the doctor. Eberstein smiled quietly, "Good-night!"

      "Good-night, Mr. Montrose," said Mrs. Barrast pointedly. "Next time you come, talk to me as well as to Miss Enistor!"

      "I apologise for my bad manners," said Montrose quickly.

      "What a compliment to me!" laughed Alice, shrugging her shoulders.

      "Oh, you understand me, I think, Miss Enistor," he looked at her straightly.

      She returned his look flushing. "I think I do," was her low reply.

      "Such nonsense," said Mrs. Barrast irritably: for her the evening had not been a success.

      CHAPTER VII

      BEHIND THE SCENES

      It was a delightfully warm summer night when Eberstein and his young friend left the house. For some little distance they walked on in silence, as Eberstein was never voluble and Montrose felt disinclined to speak at the moment. Oblivious of his surroundings, more or less, he moved mechanically by the doctor's side, dreaming of Alice and of the love which existed between them. Considering he had met her for the first time an hour or so previously, it seemed ridiculous, even in a dream, to think that she had any such tender feeling for him. But something in the deeps of his own nature was struggling to the surface to assure him that his dream was truth. Much as he valued Eberstein's company, he wished him away at the moment that he might puzzle out the meaning of this strange intuition.

      "But that is impossible, just now," said the doctor quietly. "I wish you to come to my house, as I have much to say, and something to show."

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