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"Excuse me just a moment, children," and the old man hastened from the room. As soon as he was out of earshot Canler turned to Jane. "See here, Jane," he said bluntly. "How long is this thing going on like this? You haven't refused to marry me, but you haven't promised either. I want to get the license tomorrow, so that we can be married quietly before you leave for Wisconsin.
Jane was not married before she left with her father and Esmeralda for her little Wisconsin farm, and as she coldly bid Robert Canler goodby as her train pulled out, he called to her that he would join them in a week or two. At their destination they were met by Clayton and Mr.
Professor Porter removed his spectacles nervously, and breathed upon them, but replaced them on his nose without wiping. The ubiquitous Esmeralda grunted. Only Tarzan did not comprehend. Presently Robert Canler burst into the room. "Thank God!" he cried. "I feared the worst, until I saw your car, Clayton.
Mr. Philander, who was sitting near the window, looked out as the car drew in sight, finally stopping beside the other automobiles. "Bless me!" said Mr. Philander, a shade of annoyance in his tone. "It is Mr. Canler. I had hoped, er I had thought or er how very happy we should be that he was not caught in the fire," he ended lamely. "Tut, tut! Mr. Philander," said Professor Porter. "Tut, tut!
Clayton," said the girl, "because I know you are big enough and generous enough to have done it just for him and, oh Cecil, I wish I might repay you as you deserve as you would wish." "Why can't you, Jane?" "Because I love another." "Canler?" "No." "But you are going to marry him. He told me as much before I left Baltimore." The girl winced. "I do not love him," she said, almost proudly.
I would gladly have gone and seen that every comfort was provided." "Jane feels that we are already too much in your debt, Mr. Canler," said Professor Porter. Canler was about to reply, when the sound of footsteps came from the hall without, and Jane entered the room. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" she exclaimed, pausing on the threshold. "I thought you were alone, papa."
He did not press the matter further, but if ever a man had murder in his heart it was William Cecil Clayton, Lord Greystoke, when, a week later, Robert Canler drew up before the farmhouse in his purring six cylinder. A week passed; a tense, uneventful, but uncomfortable week for all the inmates of the little Wisconsin farmhouse. Canler was insistent that Jane marry him at once.
Tarzan rose and bowed as only D'Arnot could have taught a gentleman to do it, but he did not seem to see Canler's hand. Nor did Canler appear to notice the oversight. "This is the Reverend Mr. Tousley, Jane," said Canler, turning to the clerical party behind him. "Mr. Tousley, Miss Porter." Mr. Tousley bowed and beamed. Canler introduced him to the others.
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