Old Aaron Rockharrt having discharged his shot, went down stairs, entered his carriage and drove to Wall Street.
Corona went to her room, or to the room she jointly occupied with Mrs. Stillwater, wishing from the depths of her heart that she could get entirely away from the sight and hearing of the woman who grew more repugnant to her feelings every day. At one time Cora thought that she would call a carriage, drive to the Hudson River railway station, and take the train for West Point, there to remain during the exercises of the academy. She was very strongly tempted to do this; but she resisted the impulse. She would not bring matters to a crisis by making a scene. So the idea of escaping to West Point was abandoned. Next she thought of taking a carriage and driving out to Harlem alone; but then she remembered that the woman Stillwater was, after all, her guest, so long as she herself was mistress, if only in name, of her grandfather's house; she could not leave her alone for the whole day; and so the idea of evading the creature's company by driving out alone was also given up.
Truly, Cora was bound to the rack with cords of conventionality as fine as cobwebs, yet as strong as ropes.
She did nothing but sit still in her chamber and brood; dreading the entrance of her abhorrent room-mate every moment.
But Rose Stillwater—who read Cora Rothsay's thoughts as easily as she could read a familiar book—acted with her usual discretion. As long as Cora chose to remain in their joint chamber, Rose forbore to exercise her own right of entering it.
Not until the afternoon did Corona come out into the parlor. Then she found Rose seated at the window, watching the busy scene on the Broadway pavement below, the hurried promenaders jostling as they passed each other on going up and coming down; the street peddlers, the walking advertisements, and all other sights never noticed by a citizen of the town, but looked at with curiosity by a stranger from the country.
Rose turned as Corona entered, and ignoring all reserve, said sweetly:
"I hope you have been resting, dear, and that you feel refreshed. Shall I ring and order luncheon? I wish to do all I can, dear, to prove my appreciation of all the kindness shown me; yet not to be officious."
Now, how could Cora repulse the advances of so very good humored a woman? She believed her to be false and designing. She longed with all her heart and soul to be rid of the woman and her insidious influence. Yet she could not hear that sweet voice, those meek words, or meet those soft blue eyes, and maintain her manner of freezing politeness.
"If you please," she answered, gently, and then said to herself: "Heavens! what a hypocrite this unwillingness to hurt the woman's feelings does make me!"