"I should be willing to recommend to Mr. Eades a discontinuance of any action. What his attitude would be, I am not, of course, able to say. You understand my position."
"Very well," said Ward in the brisk business way habitual with him. "You see Eades, have him agree to drop the whole thing, and I'll give you my check to cover the--deficiency."
The banker thought a moment and said finally:
"I shall have an interview with Mr. Eades in the morning, communicating the result to you at eleven o'clock."
Ward rose.
"Must you go?" asked Hunter in surprise, as if the visit had been but a social one. He rose tremblingly, and stood looking about him with his mirthless grin, and Ward departed without ceremony.
XXVI
All the way to the court-house Elizabeth's heart failed her more and more. She had often been in fear of Eades, but never had she so feared him as she did to-day; the fear became almost an acute terror. And, once in the big building, the fear increased. Though the court-house, doubtless, was meant for her as much as for any one, she felt that alien sense that women still must feel in public places. Curiosity and incredulity were shown in the glances the loafers of the corridors bestowed on this young woman, who, in her suit of dark green, with gray furs and muff, attracted such unusual attention. Elizabeth detected the looks that were exchanged, and, because of her sensitiveness, imagined them to be of more significance than they were. She saw the sign "Marriage Licenses" down one gloomy hallway; then in some way she thought of the divorce court; then she thought of the criminal court, with its shadow now creeping toward her own home, and when she reflected how much cause for this staring curiosity there might be if the curious ones but knew all she knew, her heart grew heavier. But she hurried along, found Eades's office, and, sending in her card, sat down in the outer room to wait.
She had chosen the most obscure corner and she sat there, hoping that no one would recognize her, filled with confusion whenever any one looked at her, or she suspected any one of looking at her, and imagining all the dreadful significances that might attach to her visit. While she waited, she had time to think over the last eighteen hours. They had found it necessary to tell her mother, and that lady had spent the whole morning in hysteria, alternately wondering what people would say when the disgrace became known, and caressing and leaning on Dick, who bravely remained at home and assumed the manly task of comforting and reassuring his mother. Elizabeth had awaited in suspense the conclusion of Hunter's visit to Eades, and she had gone down town to hear from her father the result of Hunter's effort. She was not surprised when her father told her that Hunter reported failure; neither of them had had much faith in Hunter and less in Eades. But when they had discussed it at the luncheon they had in a private room at the club, and after the discussion had proved so inconclusive, she broached the plan that had come to her in the wakeful night,--the plan she had been revolving in her mind all the morning.
"My lawyer?" her father had said. "He could do nothing--in a case like this."