He put the package of bills in the inside pocket of his coat. He reflected a few seconds, then took his top hat. “Will you do me the honour of presenting my compliments and regrets to Madame Pope—and to Mademoiselle?” he said with steady eyes and elaborate politeness. “I thank you again. I regret that we part in circumstances so unhappy. I shall send your little advance within the month.”
He bowed profoundly, and Senator Pope inclined his head. He went to the door, turned there, bowed again. “Au revoir, my dear Senator,” he said cordially, and was gone—a fascinating patrician figure of handsome ease and dignity.
XV
FROTHINGHAM let three days pass, and on the fourth called at Senator Pope’s. Elsie was in Philadelphia—was visiting an aunt. It had not occurred to him that she would run away and hide herself, so little did he think of the matter in any other light than that of a game between himself and Rontivogli. He was much upset, and did not know what move to make next. Fate helped him the evening of the same day—the mail brought a note from Elsie:
My Dear Friend:
I can’t help writing to thank you. You warned me, and you were good and kind about it, and I was very disagreeable. I should like to say so to you, but I don’t suppose you’ll be in Philadelphia, will you? And it will be many a day before I see Washington. Indeed, I hope I shall never see it again. I didn’t deserve your friendship.
E. W. P.
Frothingham had not reflected on this letter long before he was telling Hutt to get his belongings together. The next afternoon found him at the Bellevue in Philadelphia, and a few hours later he was dining at the Hopkins’ with Elsie and her uncle and aunt. He liked the Hopkinses—stiff and shy, but kindly. He liked the dark furniture, and walls and woodwork, suggesting old English; liked the faces in the family portraits—English faces; liked surroundings where there was nothing new or new-fashioned except his own and Elsie’s dress, where there was so much that was fine as well as old. And he had never liked Elsie so well as now that she was chastened into an appealing gentleness and humility.