Truthful Jane. Florence Morse Kingsley

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СКАЧАТЬ you please, Jane."

      Jane obeyed.

      "Why—er—did you not come down to dinner to-night, Jane?" Mr. Aubrey-Blythe wanted to know next, his remark being prefaced by a long and speculative stare at Jane's small person. He appeared indeed to be looking at his niece for the first time.

      "Because I wasn't asked, sir."

      "Hum—ah; it was an oversight, Jane. You should have dined with us to-night."

      Jane was puzzled. She stole a glance at her uncle's eminently respectable British visage, with just a fleeting wonder as to the amount of wine he had drunk at dinner. But no; he was undeniably sober, not to say serious; his eyes were still fixed upon herself with that singularly speculative gaze.

      "You have—er—made your home with us for many years—that is to say, since your infancy, Jane, and I—er—trust that these have been not unhappy years—eh, Jane?"

      Jane folded one cold little hand over the other; it was as she thought, she told herself angrily, Aunt Agatha had blabbed. "Since you have asked me, Uncle Robert," she said distinctly, "I will tell you that they have been very unhappy years. I simply hate my life in this house." She leaned back in her chair and fixed her clear eyes upon her uncle. Manifestly he was astounded by her reply.

      "Why, why, why—upon my word!" he stammered at length. "I am—er—shocked to hear you speak in that manner. What—er—what, in short, do you mean?"

      "I should rather go away and earn my living," said Jane desperately. "I suppose Aunt Agatha has told you what I said to her in the schoolroom to-night; but I meant it; I shouldn't mind being a nursery governess in the least, and"—forlornly—"it is all I am good for."

      "Tut, tut!" remonstrated Mr. Aubrey-Blythe with some sternness. "You quite misunderstand me, I see. Now, I beg that you will have the goodness to attend me while I explain more fully why I have sent for you."

      But he made no haste to enter upon the promised explanation, again fixing his eyes upon his niece in a long, contemplative gaze. What he saw must have clarified his ideas somewhat, for he presently went on more briskly.

      "Whether you have been happy or not during your years of residence under my roof matters little with regard to—er—what I am about to say, Jane. I have, in short, a proposal for your hand."

      "A what?" gasped Jane.

      "A proposal of marriage was what I said," repeated Mr. Aubrey-Blythe rebukingly. "A most honorable and—er—highly flattering proposal, in short. I own that I was surprised, and so—er—was my wife, Lady Agatha."

      Jane's own emotions were clearly depicted upon her young face. She was leaning forward in her chair, her large eyes fixed upon her uncle.

      "Who—" she began; then stopped short.

      "You have, of course, met the gentleman who has paid you this great compliment—the highest compliment—er—that man can pay to woman," proceeded Mr. Aubrey-Blythe grandly. "The proposal reached me by letter last week, and the author of that letter was"—he paused dramatically—"the Hon. Wipplinger Towle."

      The girl burst into a hysterical laugh.

      "Jane, I beg— Will you not control yourself, madam? Ah—er—I see I shall be forced to call Lady Agatha."

      Jane instantly became calm. "Don't—please don't call Aunt Agatha," she begged. "It was only—I couldn't help thinking——"

      "I trust you will reflect carefully as to what this proposal means for you, Jane. I confess that I should have been—er—not displeased had the proposal embraced a different—that is to say—er—had the recipient of it been my own daughter, I should have been disposed to consider it not unfavorably. Lady Agatha was at first convinced that the gentleman had, in short, committed a most egregious blunder; but I am assured by word of mouth that this is not the case. It is you, Jane, he wishes to make his wife; you and no other. And I congratulate you sincerely upon the auspicious event. I will not deny that your future has been an occasional source of keen anxiety to me, and also, I believe, to my wife, Lady Agatha; portionless brides are not commonly sought by men—er—whose position in life is that of the Hon. Wipplinger Towle."

      "But—Uncle Robert; you can't mean that I— You know I—couldn't marry that man, Uncle Robert."

      "You could not marry the Hon. Wipplinger Towle? Surely, I do not understand you correctly, Jane. I perceive that you have been greatly surprised by the nature of my disclosure, totally unprepared for it as you were. And this much I regret, my dear child. You should have been apprised of the facts, you should indeed."

      Jane's heart was touched by the faint cadence of affection in the man's voice. "O Uncle Robert!" she cried, "do you look at all like my father? Do tell me that you do; I should so love to think so!"

      Mr. Aubrey-Blythe shook his head. "I do not resemble my deceased brother Oliver in the smallest particular," he said dryly. "And I have never felt that this was a cause of regret. Oliver was a most injudicious and hasty tempered person; his early death and many misfortunes were undoubtedly brought about by his own deplorable imprudence. I have often thought"—deliberately—"that you resemble him, Jane."

      "I'm glad I do!" retorted Jane. "And I may as well say once for all, Uncle Robert, that I will not marry the Hon. Wipplinger Towle. You may tell him so."

      Mr. Robert Aubrey-Blythe regarded his niece with a portentous gathering of his bushy eyebrows. "I beg, Jane," he said, "that you will not decide this matter hastily. There are, in short, many reasons why you should marry, and I will not deny that I regard the present proposal as most opportune. I have, in short, given the Hon. Wipplinger Towle my full permission to pay his addresses to you. He dined with us this evening, and—er—expects, I believe, the opportunity of pleading his own cause."

      "Do you want me to go away, Uncle Robert?" faltered Jane, quite overcome. "Do you hate me, too?"

      "Certainly not—decidedly not, Jane. You—er—put the matter in most unwarranted terms. But I believe that you would be far happier in an establishment of your own. In fact, you have already intimated something of the sort in the course of our conversation. Am I not right?"

      "I said I should rather be a nursery governess," said Jane doggedly. "I can do that; I have taught Percy and Cecil ever since Miss Craddock went away, and——"

      Mr. Robert Aubrey-Blythe rose abruptly. "No, Jane—I beg— Keep your seat, if you please. I will send Mr. Towle to you at once. You are, of course, at liberty to do as you wish in the matter. But as your eldest surviving male relative I most strongly advise that you listen to his suit patiently and give him the answer that he wishes and—er—expects."

      Jane stretched out her hands imploringly. "Dear Uncle Robert," she whispered; "please, Uncle Robert—just a minute!"

      But he was gone, and Jane sank back in her chair with a sob. "Oh, if he would only love me a little!" she thought. Then she sat up very straight and calm; somebody was approaching.

      The Hon. Wipplinger Towle was a tall man, even taller than Mr. Robert Aubrey-Blythe. He was also exceedingly lean, and bald—quite bald. Jane mechanically noted the dull pale glisten of his scalp as he crossed the wide expanse of Turkey carpet which intervened between herself and the curtained doorway.

      "Good СКАЧАТЬ