headache, I am myself again.”
Marion, solicitous for others always, flew for her smelling salts. In three strides Ralph was across the floor, and had closed the door behind her. His manner had instantly changed, he was fully of energy and action.
“Take this,” he whispered. “Take it and the cure will he complete. Crush it up between your teeth and drink a glass of water afterwards.”
He forced a small, white pellet between Vera’s teeth; he heard her teeth crushing it. With his peculiar gift for finding things, he crossed over to the washstand and returned with a glass of water.
“You are better?” he asked, as Vera gulped the water down.
“Oh, yes, uncle. Are you a wizard or what? My headache seems to have lifted from me as one takes off a hat. The stuff you gave me—”
“Say no more about it; think no more about it. But whenever the same feeling comes over you again let me know at once. And you are not to mention this to anybody.”
“But my mother and Geoffrey, and—”
“Ah! you love Geoffrey? But there is no need to ask you the question. You want to rid the house of its nameless terror; you want to be free, to marry Geoffrey and be happy. Dear child, all these things will come if you listen to me. I swear it. And now, will you promise me that you will say nothing of this to a soul?”
“Dear uncle, I promise.”
Ralph had grown cold and moody again. When Marion returned with her salts he slipped out of the room as callously as if he were not in the least interested. And while many anxious eyes followed Vera at breakfast time, Ralph alone was indifferent, brutally indifferent, Marion thought.
“Are you thinking of the same thing that we are?” she asked.
“No,” Ralph said shortly. “I was thinking what poor bacon this is.”
X - A LITTLE SUNSHINE
After luncheon, Geoffrey was leaning over the stone balustrade of the terrace waiting for Vera. Beyond a slight restlessness and extra brilliancy of the eye she was better. She had proposed a ramble along the cliffs and Geoffrey had assented eagerly.
His anxiety was fading away like the ashes of his cigarette. At first he had been inclined to imagine that Vera’s indisposition had been a move on the part of the unseen foe. But he put this idea from him as illogical. The enemy was not in the habit of using the gloved hand like this. He struck down fiercely and remorselessly.
“No,” Geoffrey murmured aloud; “Vera could not have been spared!”
A gentle hand was laid upon his arm. Marion stood beside him. They were alone at that angle of the terrace and unseen from the house.
“You are right,” said Marion. “Don’t worry about that anymore.”
Geoffrey nodded approvingly. He slipped his arm round Marion’s waist and kissed her in a brotherly fashion. Marion inclined towards him with half-closed eyes and a brightened color. Her limbs trembled; the pressure of her lips was warm and sweet.
“Dear little sister,” Geoffrey murmured. “What should we do without you?”
Marion drew herself away abruptly. She rested her clasped hands over the stone balcony so that Geoffrey should not see their unsteadiness; her flushed face was half averted. It was a taking, a perfect picture.
“What would Vera say?” she asked.
“As if Vera would mind! Don’t we all love you the same? And how many times has Vera seen me kiss you? If there were no Vera, little sister, then you may be sure that I should have kissed you in a different way!”
Marion laughed at the easy impertinence. That Geoffrey had no real love or passion for anybody but Vera she knew perfectly well. She laughed again but there was nothing spontaneous in it; indeed, anybody but a youthful egotist in love could have detected a certain jarring note of pain.
“Here is Vera,” said Geoffrey. “Let us ask her.”
They put it to her merrily. They might have been in a world beyond all sorrow or suffering. The music of their fresh young voices floated in the air. Then Marion bent over the balustrade and watched the lovers out of sight. Her face grew hard; a veil of heavy years seemed to have fallen over it.
“If he only knew!” she said; “If he only knew! Why are clever people often so foolish? And why do they commit follies with their eyes wide open? Well, it doesn’t matter, for you will never know, dear Geoffrey, how passionately and devotedly I love you. And you never, never know when temptation and inclination and opportunity go together. And I don’t believe that anybody could resist temptation if he or she were certain not to be found out!”
“I am perfectly sure they wouldn’t.”
Marion turned with a stifled cry on her lips. Ralph Ravenspur was behind her. The expression on his face was wooden and emotionless.
“I hope you have not been listening to me,” she said reproachfully.
“I have been watching you, or rather feeling your presence for some time,” Ralph admitted. “I have been here since those young people went away. But you said nothing; at least, nothing I heard until that bit of worldly wisdom dropped from your lips.”
“It was an unworthy thought, Uncle Ralph.”
“It might be unworthy of you, my dear; but I fancy it is true. Even the very best of people give way to temptation. Put it away from you; don’t dwell upon your temptation, or it may get you into trouble.”
“My temptation! Do you mean to say you know what it is?”
“I do,” said Ralph. “You are deeply in love with your cousin Geoffrey. There is wild blood in your veins, and that blood will out unless you keep your feelings well under control. Ah! you may stare and look dismayed, which I am sure you are doing, although I cannot see you. Yes; there is always the temptation to pray that the family foe might remove Vera from your path.”
A piteous cry came from Marion’s lips. Who was this man who knew so much and could probe her secret soul? Yet he was blind; he could not see. Was it possible that some such horrible thoughts had crossed Marion’s mind? Atrocious thoughts will come to the best of us unasked for, unsought.
“Oh, you are cruel!” she said.
“Perhaps I am,” Ralph admitted. “You see, I live in a dark world of my own, and I have small belief in the virtues of my fellow creatures. But you are an angel, and I have amused myself by searing your wings.”
“Is that because you think my secret is a shameful one?”
“Not in the least. Who can help the wayward driftings of a woman’s heart? And, anyway, your secret is safe with me.”
He felt for Marion’s fingers and put them to his lips. Before the girl could reply he had drifted away, apparently
