CHAPTER V.

im. JamesVanelookedintohissister’sfacewithtenderness.“Iwantyoutocomeoutwithmeforawalk,Sibyl.Idon’tsupposeIshalleverseethishorridLondonagain.IamsureIdon’twantto.” “Myson,don’tsaysuchdreadfulthings,”murmuredMrs.Vane,takingupatawdrytheatricaldress,withasigh,andbeginningtopatchit.Shefeltalittledisappointedthathehadnotjoinedthegroup.Itwouldhaveincreasedthetheatricalpicturesquenessofthesituation. “Whynot,Mother?Imeanit.” “Youpainme,myson.ItrustyouwillreturnfromAustraliainapositionofaffluence.IbelievethereisnosocietyofanykindintheColonies—nothingthatIwouldcallsociety—sowhenyouhavemadeyourfortune,youmustcomebackandassertyourselfinLondon.” “Society!”mutteredthelad.“Idon’twanttoknowanythingaboutthat.IshouldliketomakesomemoneytotakeyouandSibyloffthestage.Ihateit.” “Oh,Jim!”saidSibyl,laughing,“howunkindofyou!Butareyoureallygoingforawalkwithme?Thatwillbenice!Iwasafraidyouweregoingtosaygood-byetosomeofyourfriends—toTomHardy,whogaveyouthathideouspipe,orNedLangton,whomakesfunofyouforsmokingit.Itisverysweetofyoutoletmehaveyourlastafternoon.Whereshallwego?Letusgotothepark.” “Iamtooshabby,”heanswered,frowning.“Onlyswellpeoplegotothepark.” “Nonsense,Jim,”shewhispered,strokingthesleeveofhiscoat. Hehesitatedforamoment.“Verywell,”hesaidatlast,“butdon’tbetoolongdressing.”Shedancedoutofthedoor.Onecouldhearhersingingassheranupstairs.Herlittlefeetpatteredoverhead. Hewalkedupanddowntheroomtwoorthreetimes.Thenheturnedtothestillfigureinthechair.“Mother,aremythingsready?”heasked. “Quiteready,James,”sheanswered,keepinghereyesonherwork.Forsomemonthspastshehadfeltillateasewhenshewasalonewiththisroughsternsonofhers.Hershallowsecretnaturewastroubledwhentheireyesmet.Sheusedtowonderifhesuspectedanything.Thesilence,forhemadenootherobservation,becameintolerabletoher.Shebegantocomplain.Womendefendthemselvesbyattacking,justastheyattackbysuddenandstrangesurrenders.“Ihopeyouwillbecontented,James,withyoursea-faringlife,”shesaid.“Youmustrememberthatitisyourownchoice.Youmighthaveenteredasolicitor’soffice.Solicitorsareaveryrespectableclass,andinthecountryoftendinewiththebestfamilies.” “Ihateoffices,andIhateclerks,”hereplied.“Butyouarequiteright.Ihavechosenmyownlife.AllIsayis,watchoverSibyl.Don’tlethercometoanyharm.Mother,youmustwatchoverher.” “James,youreallytalkverystrangely.OfcourseIwatchoverSibyl.” “Ihearagentlemancomeseverynighttothetheatreandgoesbehindtotalktoher.Isthatright?Whataboutthat?” “Youarespeakingaboutthingsyoudon’tunderstand,James.Intheprofessionweareaccustomedtoreceiveagreatdealofmostgratifyingattention.Imyselfusedtoreceivemanybouquetsatonetime.Thatwaswhenactingwasreallyunderstood.AsforSibyl,Idonotknowatpresentwhetherherattachmentisseriousornot.Butthereisnodoubtthattheyoungmaninquestionisaperfectgentleman.Heisalwaysmostpolitetome.Besides,hehastheappearanceofbeingrich,andtheflowershesendsarelovely.” “Youdon’tknowhisname,though,”saidtheladharshly. “No,”answeredhismotherwithaplacidexpressioninherface.“Hehasnotyetrevealedhisrealname.Ithinkitisquiteromanticofhim.Heisprobablyamemberofthearistocracy.” JamesVanebithislip.“WatchoverSibyl,Mother,”hecried,“watchoverher.” “Myson,youdistressmeverymuch.Sibylisalwaysundermyspecialcare.Ofcourse,ifthisgentlemaniswealthy,thereisnoreasonwhysheshouldnotcontractanalliancewithhim.Itrustheisoneofthearistocracy.Hehasalltheappearanceofit,Imustsay.ItmightbeamostbrilliantmarriageforSibyl.Theywouldmakeacharmingcouple.Hisgoodlooksarereallyquiteremarkableeverybodynoticesthem.” Theladmutteredsomethingtohimselfanddrummedonthewindow-panewithhiscoarsefingers.HehadjustturnedroundtosaysomethingwhenthedooropenedandSibylranin. “Howseriousyoubothare!”shecried.“Whatisthematter?” “Nothing,”heanswered.“Isupposeonemustbeserioussometimes.Good-bye,MotherIwillhavemydinneratfiveo’clock.Everythingispacked,exceptmyshirts,soyouneednottrouble.” “Good-bye,myson,”sheanswere