“Yes ma’am,” answered the servant, “but Miss Constance is not very well, and is gone to her room with a headache, and Miss Grace said she would see no one, ma’am.”
“I just met Mr. Wood,” objected Totty, “and he said he had been here this afternoon.”
“Yes ma’am, and so he was, and it’s since Mr. Wood left that the orders was given. Shall I take your card, Mrs. Trimm, ma’am?”
“No. It is of no use. You can tell the young ladies I called.”
She descended the steps and went quickly back towards Fifth Avenue. There was great joy and triumph in her breast and her smile shed its radiance on the trees on the deserted pavement and on the stiff iron railings as she went along.
“That idiotic little fool!” said Mrs. Sherrington Trimm in her heart. “She loves him, and she has refused one of the best matches in New York because she fancies he wants her money!”
She reflected that if Mamie had the same chance, she should certainly not refuse George Winton Wood, and she determined that if diplomacy could produce the necessary situation, she would not be long in bringing matters to the proper point. There is no time when a man is so susceptible, so ready to yield to the charms of one woman as when he has just been jilted by another—so, at least, thought Totty, and her worldly experience was by no means small. And if the marriage could be brought about, why then——Totty’s radiant face expressed the rest of her thoughts better than any words could have done.
While she was making these reflections the chief figure in her panorama was striding up the Avenue at a rapid pace. Strange to say his cousin’s suggestion, that he should go and see Mamie had proved rather attractive than otherwise. He did not care to walk the streets, since Totty had been so much surprised by his appearance. He might meet other acquaintances, and be obliged to speak with them. If he went home he would have to face his father, who would not fail to notice his looks, and who might guess the cause of his distress, for the old gentleman was well aware that his son was in love with Constance and hoped with all his heart that the marriage might not be far distant. Mamie would be alone, Mamie knew nothing of his doings, she was a good girl, and he liked her. To spend an hour with her would cost him nothing, as she would talk the greater part of the time, and he would gain a breathing space in which to recover from the shock he had received. She was indeed the only person whom he could have gone to see at that moment without positive suffering, except Johnson, and he was several miles from the office of Johnson’s newspaper.
As he approached the Trimms’ house his pace slackened, as though he were finally debating within himself upon the wisdom of making the visit. Then as he came within sight of the door he quickened his steps again and did not pause until he had rung the bell. A moment later he entered the drawing-room where Mamie Trimm was sitting in a deep easy-chair, among flowers near a sunlit window. She held a book in her hand.
“Oh George!” she cried, blushing with pleasure. “I am so glad—I am all alone.”