Two more hours passed before the lawyers and their client rose from their seats about the long table. Even then the consultation was not at an end. Sylvester and the Captain lunched together at the Central Club and sat in the smoking room until after four, talking earnestly. When they parted, the attorney was grave and troubled.
"All right, Captain Warren," he said; "I'll do it. And you may be right. I certainly hope you are. But I must confess I don't look forward to my task with pleasure. I think I've got the roughest end.""It'll be rough, there's no doubt about that. Rough for all hands, I guess. And I hope you understand, Mr. Sylvester, that there ain't many men I'd trust to do what I ask you to. I appreciate your doin' it more'n I can tell you. Be as--as gentle as you can, won't you?""I will. You can depend upon that."
"I do. And I sha'n't forget it. Good-by, till the next time."They shook hands. Captain Elisha returned to the boarding house, where he found a letter awaiting him. It was from Caroline, telling him of her engagement to Malcolm Dunn. She wrote that, while not recognizing his right to interfere in any way, she felt that perhaps he should know of her action. He did not go down to supper, and, when Pearson came to inquire the reason, excused himself, pleading a late luncheon and no appetite. He guessed he would turn in early, so he said. It was a poor guess.
Next morning he went uptown. Edwards, opening the door of the Warren apartment, was surprised to find who had rung the bell.
"Mornin', Commodore!" hailed the captain, as casually as if he were merely returning from a stroll. "Is Miss Caroline aboard ship?""Why--why, I don't know, sir. I'll see."
"That's all right. She's aboard or you wouldn't have to see. You and me sailed together quite a spell, so I know your little habits.
I'll wait in the library, Commodore. Tell her there's no particular hurry."His niece was expecting him. She had anticipated his visit and was prepared for it. From the emotion caused by his departure after the eventful birthday, she had entirely recovered, or thought she had. The surprise and shock of his leaving and the consequent sense of loneliness and responsibility overcame her at the time, but Stephen's ridicule and Mrs. Corcoran Dunn's congratulations on riddance from the "encumbrance" shamed her and stilled the reproaches of her conscience. Mrs. Dunn, as always, played the diplomat and mingled just the proper quantity of comprehending sympathy with the congratulations.
"I understand exactly how you feel, my dear," she said. "You have a tender heart, and it pains you to hurt anyone's feelings, no matter how much they deserve to be hurt. Every time I dismiss an incompetent or dishonest servant I feel that I have done wrong;sometimes I cry, actually shed tears, you know, and yet my reason tells me I am right. You feel that you may have been too harsh with that guardian of yours. You remember what you said to him and forget how hypocritically he behaved toward you. I can't forgive him that. I may forget how he misrepresented Malcolm and me to you--that I may even pardon, in time--but to deceive his own brother's children and introduce into their society a creature who had slandered and maligned their father--THAT I never shall forget or forgive. And--you'll excuse my frankness, dear--you should never forget or forgive it, either. You have nothing with which to reproach yourself. You were a brave girl, and if you are not proud of yourself, _I_ am proud of you."So, when her uncle was announced, Caroline was ready. She entered the library and acknowledged his greeting with a distant bow. He regarded her kindly, but his manner was grave.
"Well, Caroline," he began, "I got your letter.""Yes, I presumed you did."
"Um-hm. I got it. It didn't surprise me, what you wrote, because I'd seen the news in the papers; but I was hopin' you'd tell me yourself, and I'm real glad you did. I'm much obliged to you."She had not expected him to take this tone, and it embarrassed her.
"I--I gave you my reasons for writing," she said. "Although I do not consider that I am, in any sense, duty bound to refer matters, other than financial, to you; and, although my feelings toward you have not changed--still, you are my guardian, and--and--""I understand. So you're really engaged?"
"Yes."
"Engaged to Mr. Dunn?"
"Yes."
"And you're cal'latin' to marry him?"
"One might almost take that for granted," impatiently.
"Almost--yes. Not always, but generally, I will give in. You're goin' to marry Malcolm Dunn. Why?""Why?" she repeated the question as if she doubted his sanity.
"Yes. Be as patient with me as you can, Caroline. I ain't askin'
these things without what seems to me a good reason. Why are you goin' to marry him?""Why because I choose, I suppose."
"Um-hm. Are you sure of that?"
"Am I sure?" indignantly. "What do you mean?""I mean are you sure that it's because you choose, or because HEdoes, or maybe, because his mother does?"
She turned angrily away. "If you came here to insult me--" she began. He interrupted her.
"No, no," he protested gently. "Insultin' you is the last thing Iwant to do. But, as your father did put you in my charge, I want you to bear with me while we talk this over together. Remember, Caroline, I ain't bothered you a great deal lately. I shouldn't now if I hadn't thought 'twas necessary. So please don't get mad, but answer me this: Do you care for this man you've promised to marry?"This was a plain question. It should have been answered without the slightest hesitation. Moreover, the girl had expected him to ask it. Yet, for a moment, she did hesitate.
