"Dr Dudley, let me introduce you to Miss Maclean."
Almost any hostess would have effected that introduction under the circumstances. Ralph and Mona were the two people in the crowded little drawing-room who made their presence felt; who, unconsciously to themselves, suggested grave reponsibilities on the part of their hostess; therefore by all means let them entertain each other.
Mona bowed, as she would have done to a stranger, and Dudley seated himself by her side. Without a moment's hesitation he began to discuss a book that lay on the table, and never had Mona admired his gift of utterance more. It was not that he said anything peculiarly brilliant, but he talked so easily and fluently that even she could not tell whether his self-possession was real or assumed. She would have been in less doubt on the subject, perhaps, if she had trusted herself to meet his eye when he entered the drawing-room. As it was, she was determined not to be outdone, so for nearly half an hour the stream of conversation ran lightly on.
At length several people rose to go, and, in the slight stir this involved, Ralph and Mona were left alone and unnoticed for a moment, in the oriel window.
In an instant the conversation ceased and their eyes met.
"Dr Dudley," Mona said impulsively, in a very low voice, "what have I done?"
The same honest eyes as of old—the eyes that had smiled and deceived him.
"Done?" he said coldly, with an accent of surprise. "Nothing whatsoever. I was under a stupid misapprehension as to the terms on which we stood; but I have long since seen my mistake. That is all."
He was annoyed with her for opening the subject there and then,—forgetting that women cannot always choose their opportunities,—but even as he spoke, his lips quivered; a terrible struggle was concealed beneath the calmness of his manner. One word more from her might have dragged aside the flimsy veil; but she, too, had her pride.
"Well, I am afraid I must go," she said, as Miss Davidson returned to her remaining guests. "Don't let me hurry you, Lucy; I must get that book you mentioned out of the library, Dr Dudley."
She bowed to him with a frank cordiality that was far more cutting than his coldness, shook hands with her hostess, and went away. Lucy, of course, accompanied her, and Dudley was left to reap what he had sown.
But Mona could not bear even Lucy's society to-day, and she made an excuse for parting from her before they had gone many hundred yards. Then her lithe figure straightened itself defiantly.
"Two chances I have given him," she said to herself; "and now, come what come may, he shall make the third himself!"
When Mona came in from hospital a few days later, she was met by the announcement that a gentleman had called to see her, and had said he would return in the evening.
"Did he leave no name?" she asked in some surprise.
"No, ma'am, he said it was of no consequence."
Mona bethought herself of Mr Reynolds.
"Was he an old gentleman?" she said.
"Oh no, ma'am; a youngish gentleman, tall and thin."
Mona's heart leaped. "Show him up to my sitting-room when he comes," she said quietly.
She went to her lecture as usual that afternoon, but found it difficult to give her full attention to the varieties, causes, and treatment of aneurism. The moment the class was over she hurried home, dressed with more than usual care, rearranged her flowers, dined without knowing what was on the table, and then seated herself in her rocking-chair with a book.
But she did not read. She proceeded to make a leisurely, critical survey of the room. It looked very pretty just then in the soft evening light, and at worst it was a picturesque, suggestive place.
She rose to her feet and redraped a curtain; then she glanced with satisfaction at the soft folds of her gown, and seated herself again with a sigh. How sensible of him it was to come to her quietly, here in her own territory, where they could talk over everything thoroughly, and explain all misunderstandings!
A loud rat-tat-tat resounded through the house. Alas! she knew that imperious knock only too well! A minute later Sir Douglas and her aunt entered the room.
"You do look well," he said, holding her at arm's-length before he kissed her. "I never saw you with such a colour."
"And your rooms are so charming," said Lady Munro. "I like them a great deal better than ours in Gloucester Place."
Mona laughed. She was well used by this time to her aunt's figures of speech.
"We are on our way to dinner at the Lacys', and as we had ten minutes to spare——"
"For a wonder!" growled Sir Douglas.
"——Douglas was determined to look in upon you."
Mona smiled across brightly at her uncle, but she fervently hoped the ten minutes would be over before Dr Dudley arrived. It was at least fortunate that the engagement was dinner.
The ten minutes, however, still had half their course to run when Mona heard a timid knock at the street-door.
"That can't be his," she said to herself. But she did not find it easy to preserve her self-control when she heard footsteps coming up-stairs.
A moment later the door was thrown open, and the parlour-maid announced—
"Mr Brown from Kilwinnie."
Mona's heart stood still, but the situation had to be faced.
"How kind of you to come and see me!" she said, going forward to meet him. "Aunt Maud, Uncle Douglas, this is my friend Mr Brown."
She laid the least possible deliberate emphasis on the words "my friend," and she turned to her uncle right proudly as she said them.
Sir Douglas had risen from his chair when she did, and now he bowed somewhat formally. The lines of his mouth were a little hard. Possibly he found it difficult to suppress a smile.
Mona made a motion of her hand towards an easy-chair, and Mr Brown seated himself on the edge of it, wiping his brow with a large silk handkerchief.
"I was coming up to town on business," he said shyly, "so I got your address from Mrs Easson."
"Oh yes. How is Mrs Easson?"
"She wasn't very well a week or two back, but she seems pretty much in her usual again."
Mona turned to her aunt. "Mr Brown is a fellow-enthusiast of mine on the subject of botany," she said. "He is the greatest living authority on the fauna and flora of the district in which he lives. I want him to write a book on the subject."
"Indeed!" said Lady Munro, with a pretty assumption of interest.
Mr Brown shook his head. "No, no," he said, "Professor Bristowe was saying that; but you would need to be familiar with the whole county before you could write a book it would be worth while reading, and I never have time to get very far. It's only once a-week that I can get an afternoon away from the shop, and now I shall have less time than ever." He looked rather sheepishly at Mona, and added, "They've just over-persuaded me to take the Provost-ship."
"I am glad to hear they have shown so much sense," she answered cordially. "I don't know whether you are to be congratulated or not, but I am quite sure they are."
"Oh, I don't know that. They could easily have got somebody who was more of a hand at speeches, but they would take no refusal, so to say."
There was a pause.
"I suppose you have just come up to town?" Sir Douglas remarked affably; and Mona looked at him with infinite gratitude.
"I came up last night." He looked again at Mona. "I was here once before, to-day."
She smiled. "I heard that somebody had called, but I did not know it was you. I am sorry you had the trouble of coming twice. I suppose you find London a great deal warmer than Kilwinnie?"
"It's warm everywhere just now." He turned to Sir Douglas, with an idea that his next remark was peculiarly suited to masculine ears. "It's very poor weather for the turnips."
"Ah! I suppose it is," Sir Douglas said, so genially that Mr Brown took courage, and looked at Mona's aunt.
Lady Munro's Indian shawl had fallen back, and the draper made a mental valuation of her heavy silk dress. It would be no use keeping a thing like that in his shop. Then his eye fell on Sir Douglas, and for the first time in his life he realised that a man could wear evening-dress without making a fool of himself. From the easily fitting swallow-tail his eye passed to the spotless, dazzling shirt-front, and, with something of a blush, he pulled the sleeves of his tweed coat over the cuffs which his sister had so carefully trimmed before he left home.
"I am afraid we shall have to go," Lady Munro said, glancing at Mona's carriage clock; and, as she rose, she looked somewhat pointedly at Mr Brown.
The hint was lost on him, however. He bowed awkwardly to Lady Munro, and waited till Mona returned to the sitting-room.
"Miss Maclean," he blurted out hastily, "you will be disposed to laugh at me when I tell you I came here to ask you to be my wife. I knew you were far above me, but I had no notion of the like of this. You've no need to tell me that it can never be, but if ever you stand in need of a plain man's friendship, you know who to come to."
He held out his hand, forgetful of the frayed cuff, and Mona's eyes filled with tears as she took it.
"It is true it can never be, Mr Brown," she said—"not because I am above you, but because I don't love you as a good woman will some day. But I shall be proud and grateful, as long as I live, to think that so good a man has honoured me with his love."
She went with him to the door, and with a few common-place words they parted.
For the first time in her life Mona felt something of a contempt for Dr Dudley.
"What a fool I am," she thought, "to break my heart for you, when at least two greater men have wanted to make me their wife!"
But, even as she spoke, she knew that her words were not perfectly just.