He rose--making a little gesture of apology for the warmth with which
he had spoken--and took a turn in the room. Fired by _his_ enthusiasm,
Mercy followed him. Her purse was in her hand, when he turned and faced
her.
"Pray let me offer my little tribute--such as it is!" she said, eagerly.
A momentary flush spread over his pale cheeks as he looked at the
beautiful compassionate face pleading with him.
"No! no!" he said, smiling; "though I am a parson, I don't carry the
begging-box everywhere." Mercy attempted to press the purse on him. The
quaint humor began to twinkle again in his eyes as he abruptly drew back
from it. "Don't tempt me!" he said. "The frailest of all human creatures
is a clergyman tempted by a subscription." Mercy persisted, and
conquered; she made him prove the truth of his own profound observation
of clerical human nature by taking a piece of money from the purse. "If
I must take it--I must!" he remarked. "Thank you for setting the good
example! thank you for giving the timely help! What name shall I put
down on my list?"
Mercy's eyes looked confusedly away from him. "No name," she said, in a
low voice. "My subscription is anonymous."
As she replied, the library door opened. To her infinite relief--to
Julian's secret disappointment--Lady Janet Roy and Horace Holmcroft
entered the room together.
"Julian!" exclaimed Lady Janet, holding up her hands in astonishment.
He kissed his aunt on the cheek. "Your ladyship is looking charmingly."
He gave his hand to Horace. Horace took it, and passed on to Mercy. They
walked away together slowly to the other end of the room. Julian seized
on the chance which left him free to speak privately to his aunt.
"I came in through the conservatory," he said. "And I found that young
lady in the room. Who is she?"
"Are you very much interested in her?" asked Lady Janet, in her gravely
ironical way.
Julian answered in one expressive word. "Indescribably!"
Lady Janet called to Mercy to join her.
"My dear," she said, "let me formally present my nephew to you. Julian,
this is Miss Grace Roseberry--" She suddenly checked herself. The
instant she pronounced the name, Julian started as if it was a surprise
to him. "What is it?" she asked, sharply.
"Nothing," he answered, bowing to Mercy, with a marked absence of his
former ease of manner. She returned the courtesy a little restrainedly
on her side. She, too, had seen him start when Lady Janet mentioned the
name by which she was known. The start meant something. What could it
be? Why did he turn aside, after bowing to her, and address himself to
Horace, with an absent look in his face, as if his thoughts were far
away from his words? A complete change had come over him; and it dated
from the moment when his aunt had pronounced the name that was not _her_
name---the name that she had stolen!