"Must I? I say, when can I see you again; and how soon? May I write to you and fix up an appointment, or will you write to me? You will, won't you, Miss Grant?"

"Yes," said Celia. "I want to hear how the novel goes on. Perhaps Lady Gridborough will let us come to tea at the Grange, if I ask her."

They were shaking hands, when they both saw Lord Heyton crossing the lawn. Reggie looked at him in silence for a moment; then he said:--

"That one of the swells of the house?"

"That is Lord Heyton, the Marquess's son," said Celia.

"Friend of yours?" Reggie inquired.

"No!" escaped Celia's lips.

Reggie turned his eyes to her quickly.

"Glad of that!" he said. "Because, if there's anything in the science of physiognomy, that gentleman is a decidedly bad lot."

Celia turned away from the gate and walked slowly beside Reggie.

"You jump at conclusions," she said. "You have only seen him for a moment or two, and at a distance."

"I've got very good eyes," said Reggie; "and a moment or two's long enough; it's the first impression that's valuable; and, as I say, if there's any truth in the theory that you can read a character by facial characteristics, that gentleman is about as bad as they make 'em."

"But--forgive me--that you should be able to judge so swiftly sounds absurd."

"Well, it may be," admitted Reggie, grudgingly. "But I'll bet my last dollar that I'm right. Why, don't you see," he went on, earnestly, insistently, "the man's got all the wrong points; the low, shelving brow, the weak chin, the--the wrong lips. Did you notice the trick he has of looking sideways under his lids? You know what I mean, the furtive 'does-anyone-know' look?"

"I have noticed it," said Celia, reluctantly. "I have only seen him once or twice. I--I agree with you partly, and I don't think he's a good man."

"_Good_ man!" retorted Reggie, with a laugh of derision. "You take it from me that he's as bad as they make 'em. It's my belief that he's done something already--something he's ashamed of; something he's afraid may be found out. Oh, laugh if you like; but, look here, Miss Grant, you take my advice and keep clear of that man."

"I mean to," said Celia, as lightly as she could. "And so, as he's in the front of the house, I'm going in at this side door. Good-bye; I'll write to you."

Reggie walked on towards the Grange, and as he approached Susie's cottage, his step grew slow, so slow that, when he came to the gate, he almost stopped; and his eyes searched the door and the window eagerly; but he was not rewarded by a sight of the sad, pretty face which had moved him so deeply.

CHAPTER XVII

To return to Derrick Dene. When Isabel had left the van he lay, with a frown on his face, thinking sadly and troubled by a somewhat unreasonable remorse. He was not a vain man, but he knew that, all unwittingly, he had gained the love of this dark-browed, pa.s.sionate girl. She was very beautiful; she had nursed him with the tenderness of a sister, a mother, a wife. Why should he not accept the gift which the G.o.ds were offering him? Why should he not make her his wife? Even as he put the question, the answer rose to confront him. He was in love with another woman, a girl he had seen once or twice only in his life--the girl at Brown's Buildings.

It was absurd, of course. He might never meet her again; it was more than probable that by this time some other man had discovered so great a prize; she might be engaged, married. The chances were that, though he had thought of her every day since he had left her, she had well-nigh forgotten him, or, at the best, thought of him as a foolish young man who had sacrificed himself for a mistaken sense of chivalry, the man whom she, a slip of a girl, had saved from suicide. Why, he told himself, any feeling she must have for him must be that of contempt. All the same, he loved her, and therefore this other woman could be nothing to him.

The doctor and Mr. Bloxford came to see him; Bloxford full of impish delight and satisfaction at Derrick's recovery, and full also of threats of what he, Bloxford, would do if ever he came across the cause of Derrick's "accident."

An hour later Derrick had another visitor. It was Sidcup. Derrick liked the man; for, notwithstanding his harmless vanity, he was a decent sort, and the courage he displayed in his performance won Derrick's admiration. Sidcup came in and stood beside the bunk, and looked down at Derrick with a grim countenance, and he did not offer to shake hands.

"You're better, Green?" he said. "Do you think you're well enough to have a little talk? Don't say so, if you're not; but I want to have a word or two with you rather badly."

"I'm all right," said Derrick. "Fire away! It's awfully good of you to come and see me."

"I dunno," said Sidcup, moodily. "I came on my own account--and another's. Look here, Green; it's about Isabel. I want to have it out with you."

Derrick had raised himself on his elbow, but at this he dropped back and his eyes fell, for he knew what was coming.

"Of course you know how it is with her," said Sidcup. "You're not blind, and you must have seen for some time past that she's--sweet on you. I don't say it's your fault; in fact, I'll go so far as to say that you haven't led her on, encouraged her, as another man might have done.

That's just the worst of it. Perhaps, if you had, she wouldn't have been so taken with you. It's the way with some women to go after the man that draws back or doesn't meet 'em half-way."

"Look here----" said Derrick. But Sidcup shook his head.

"Better let me finish," he said; "no doubt you'll have something to say when I've done. Of course, you'll deny it, but what's the use? All the company know it. And I--well, I've the best reason for knowing it. Oh, yes, I've come to speak out. I'm sweet on her myself--no, that's not the word, for I _love_ her. It's no new affair with me; it's been going on ever since she joined us. She's the one woman in the world for me, and I want her, want her badly. But it's love with me, the real thing, and I tell you straight, Green, that, if you care for her, if you'll marry her, I'll stand aside, and I'll do all I can for you and her. That's how it is with me."

Derrick, with his brows drawn straight and his lips shut, held out his hand, for his heart went out to this man who was in the same case as himself. But Sidcup disregarded the proffered hand.

"Wait a bit!" he said. "I want to hear what you're going to say, what you're going to do; for I tell you plainly that, if you don't mean the straight thing by Isabel, you've got to reckon with me, and I shan't miss it, as that fool of a Jackman did. Will you marry her?"

"No," said Derrick, in a low voice, but decidedly. "Mind, I don't admit the truth of your--your statement; but, if I did, there are reasons----"

"There's another woman," said Sidcup, drawing a long breath.

Derrick's pale face flushed. "There are reasons why I can't marry any woman, Sidcup," he said. "No, I can't tell you them, but you can take it from me that they exist. No, I'm not married already," he added, with a grim smile, as he saw the question in Sidcup's eyes. "The fact is, I'm an outcast and a pariah. Sounds melodramatic, doesn't it? But it's the truth. And you can tell Isabel so, if you like."

Sidcup laughed bitterly.

"Do you think that would make any difference to her?" he retorted. "You don't know much about women----"

"I don't!" interjected Derrick.

"----If you think that would put her off. It would make her more gone on you than ever. She's that sort. And if you don't, or can't, marry her, what are you going to do?"

"The Lord knows," groaned Derrick, desperately.

"Look here, Green, you're a gentleman," said Sidcup.

"Am I? Thank you. But I'm not so sure. I don't know that I've any claim to the t.i.tle."

"You're a gentleman, right enough; we all know that," said Sidcup. "But you haven't traded on it, I'll say that for you. And there's only one thing for a man to do who is a gentleman----"

"And that is?" asked Derrick.

"To cut and run; to clear out," replied Sidcup. "Oh, don't make any mistake! If you stay on with the company, things between you and Isabel will grow from bad to worse."

"I tell you that it's your fancy, that you exaggerate----"

"She's one of the most beautiful women G.o.d ever made," said Sidcup, ignoring Derrick's remonstrance, "and no man could resist for long such a woman, especially when she's gone on him, as Isabel is on you. Yes, there's only one thing for you to do, and that is to clear out as soon as you're able. And if you're the straight man I think you, you'll do it, for her sake--I won't say for mine."

Derrick rose painfully on his elbow.