"I'm so anxious to have you two get acquainted," she said. "Dear Lady Helene, this is Hope—Miss Hathaway, and she can tell you everything you want to know about the West. Do, Hope, entertain her for a few moments until I find Larry." This the girl did in her gracious way, but adroitly kept the conversation away from the West.
After a few moments Clarice returned without Larry. A shadow of disappointment crossed her face as she joined the conversation.
"I thought you were going to talk about the West, Hope," she laughed, "and here you are talking New York—nothing but New York!"
"New York is always an entertaining topic," said Lady Helene. "I do not seem to fancy the West particularly. You know Lord Livingston has recently been hurt out there, and so I do not enjoy a very kindly feeling toward that country. The poor boy! I have been so worried about him! Really, don't you know, I haven't had a good night's sleep since I heard of his injury! Yes, you know, it's a wonder he wasn't scalped! It's just fearful, really! He is so much to me, you know. Ever since my poor husband died and the title and estates fell to Edward, I have felt a great responsibility for him. He is so much younger than my husband, Lord Henry, and so, well, really, sort of wild, don't you know." Here Lady Helene smiled and wiped one eye with a filmy bit of lace. Perhaps she was saddened by thoughts of the havoc she had wrought in the life of the late lord, and his fortunes.
Hope sat motionless, suddenly paralyzed. "Do you mean," she asked, in short gasps, "that Edward—Lord Livingston is not your husband?"
"Mercy, no," replied Lady Helene, "my husband's brother! Indeed, Edward is not married! I doubt very much if he ever will be. I hope if he does, that it will be to someone at home, in his own class, don't you know! Really, he is a great responsibility to me, Mrs. Van Rensselaer! Why, where did Miss Hathaway go? She seems to be such a bright, dashing young woman. Really, one meets few American girls so royally beautiful! Yes, as I was saying, Edward is a terrible responsibility to me. Even now I am obliged to hurry away because he has just arrived here in town, and I must meet him at his hotel. That is the worst of not having a house of your own! To think of poor, dear Edward stopping at a hotel!"
"Which one?" gasped Clarice. Receiving the information, she abruptly excused herself from Lady Helene, who immediately decided that some Americans had very poor manners.
While Clarice drove rapidly toward Livingston's hotel, Hope, in eager haste, was literally throwing things in a trunk that had been pulled into the center of the room. Little Louisa, no less excited and eager, assisted.
"To think, my Louisa," laughed the girl, "that we are going back to our West—home—again, away from all this fuss and foolishness! Oh, don't be so particular, dear. Throw them in any way, just so they get in! Our train leaves at twelve, and I have telephoned for tickets, state-room and everything. Isn't it grand? Mamma will be furious! But dear old Dad, won't he be glad! He's so lonesome for me, Louisa. He says he can hardly exist there without me! And Jim, and Sydney, and—everyone! Oh, I am wild for my horses and the prairie again! And you've got to be nice to Syd! Yes, dear, it's your duty. Can't you see it? If you don't, the poor boy will go to the bad altogether, and something dreadful will happen to him! And it will be all your fault!" Which statement sent Louisa into a paroxysm of tears, not altogether sorrowful.
"You will spoil dose beautiful clothes!" she finally exclaimed, looking in dismay through her tears at the reckless packer.