CHAPTER XVIII.
THE INTERVIEW.
It was the first of December that the old home passed into the hands of strangers, and the Wilmer family took up their abode in a fashionable part of the city of New York. The air of refinement which they carried with them, and the fact of their being wealthy, soon drew around them a large circle of friends, and among them Irene shone a bright star in the world of fashion. Guy Horton was there, established in an extensive publishing business, and he and Scott were soon fast friends. The longer Scott knew Guy the better opinion he formed of his character. Aside from a slight show of egotism, he thought Guy almost faultless. Irene had remarked to June that she would be glad when the year was up, that she could leave off that horrid black. “For,” said she, “you look lovely in black, but I am a fright. I am glad that Scott never notices how I look, any way.”
It was very true that the horrid black, as Irene termed it, was for some reason much more becoming to June than to herself. The sombre robes gave a still more lovely glow to June’s pearly complexion and sunny hair, but Irene looked much older in black.
It was now the first of February. Scott had asked his wife to meet him in his study. They had grown to be such strangers that formality seemed hardly out of place between them. She came with a reluctant step, like a guilty child who is looking for a chastisement, and with a cool bow took the chair which he very politely offered her, sitting where the light fell dimly on her face.
“I have requested your presence here that we might speak on a very painful subject.”
She settled back in the soft cushions, but did not speak.
“I beg you will listen, and answer me truthfully.”
The crimson blood mounted to her face, but she dare not raise her eyes and look in Scott’s face.