There was just the slightest tone of hurt feeling in Mrs. Jenkins's kindly voice, and Miss Montressor, who was as kindly as herself at bottom--only a little overlaid by the affectation of her profession and her associations--sympathetically perceived it. 'The gentleman talked nonsense, Bess,' she said, bestowing on her sister a hearty hug, to which the other responded. 'Here we are now, and here we may not be long uninterrupted, so let us have a talk while we may. What's Jenkins about?'
'I don't know, darling. No harm, but some business of a private nature, which will keep him away for some time--it's only a commission agency, but I don't know in what.'
Mrs. Jenkins was the most loyal of wives, and even to her beloved sister, the pride and delight of her life, would not have betrayed her husband's confidence, and Miss Montressor was in reality profoundly indifferent to the answer to the question which she had just asked. She did not care one straw where Jenkins was, provided he was not in New York, or what he was doing, provided his occupation was not of a nature to expose her to any risk of contact with him. Satisfied on this point, she was quite ready to respond to her sister's affectionate inquisitiveness respecting herself and her concerns, and the two plunged immediately into an animated and confidential conversation, which brought out the best sides of the characters of both.
Miss Montressor gave her sister a tolerably correct and exceedingly pleasant description of her career during the years which had parted them--years which had been very prosperous on the whole for the friendless young actress, and not unmarked by acts of generosity towards her sister, whose lot had been very different. That Mrs. Jenkins was so poor as she had been when we first made her acquaintance in Bleeker-street was not Miss Montressor's fault; she had frequently assisted her sister and her good-for-nothing husband out of her, at first, very moderate means; but when Bess saw that Jenkins's good-for-nothingness was an established fact, her honesty of purpose and truthfulness of mind made her make a resolution to accept no more assistance from Clara. 'I don't mind working hard,' was her mental comment on the situation, 'that he may have money to waste--I am his wife; but Clara shall not do it. I will never touch a shilling of her earnings more;' and she had written to Clara asking her to abstain from sending them money.
This, to tell the truth, Miss Montressor, who had had an instinctively bad opinion of her brother-in-law, was not sorry to do; and so her knowledge of the Jenkinses' circumstances became slight and confused. Her sister could not very well keep her informed of them without appearing to ask for the aid which she had deprecated; she therefore wrote vaguely and seldom, and Miss Montressor had acquiesced in this latterly, contenting herself with the reflection that she was now so extensively reported in the newspapers as being here or there, and playing this or that engagement to more or less appreciative audiences, that really Bess would know as much about her from the journals as she cared to tell, for there were one or two things she did not wish to tell. But she was brimful of news now, and Mrs. Jenkins's impression that Miss Montressor was by far the finest actress in existence was deepened by the narrative of triumphs which her sister poured into her ear. It was not an untrue narrative, it was only coloured; and yet, with all their confidence, with all their eager talk, there was a reticence on both sides.
Miss Montressor never mentioned Mr. Dolby.
Mrs. Jenkins made no allusion to Trenton Warren.
Bess had a great deal to say respecting Mrs. Griswold; and here told her sister, with lively pleasure, of that lady's promise to take her with herself to the play. 'But,' she added, 'she will have the satisfaction of seeing you before I shall, Clara. You see, I didn't care to press her so much as asking to go on the first or second night would have done--I thought it would not seem reasonable, and might arouse a suspicion; and if it did not do you harm, it might make you angry; and I would rather know you were playing for a whole week to all New York, and turning the place upside down about you, and sit at home without the chance of seeing you, than vex you; and so I have got to wait patiently until my betters are served. But I know she will keep her word; and, as I was going to say, she will see you before I shall, for she is going to-night.'
'To-night?' said Miss Montressor; 'that's quick! Is she as fond of the play as you are?'
'I think she is very fond of it. She tells me she and Mr. Griswold always went to see anything that was worth seeing. But now that he is away she is very particular indeed. She never goes anywhere except amongst old friends, and she does that very sparingly; and as to a theatre or concert, she has never put her foot in one since he left.'