Dear Girl—I've got them all this trip. I'll put Bennington on the rack and wring Warrington's political neck, the snob, swelling it around among decent people! What do you think? Why, Warrington used to run after the Challoner woman before she was married; and I have proof that she went to Warrington's room one night and never left till morning. How's that sound? They stick up their noses at you, do they? Wait! They won't look so swell when I'm through with them. If Warrington's name is even mentioned at the Republican convention, I've missed my guess. I got your bills this morning. You'd better go light till I've settled with these meddlers. Then we'll pack up our duds and take that trip to Paris I promised you.
Mac.
Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene shivered. How horribly vulgar! She felt polluted for a moment, and half wished she had let the missive lie where it had fallen. But this sense of disgust wore off directly. She had been right, then; there was something wrong; it was her duty, her duty to society, to see that this thing went no further. And that flirtation between Patty and the dramatist must be brought to a sudden halt. How? Ah, she would now find the means. He was merely hoodwinking Patty; it was a trick to be near Mrs. Jack. She had ignored her, had she? She had always scorned to listen to the truth about people, had she? And well she might! Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene's lips tightened. Those friends of hers who had doubted would presently doubt no more. She hadn't the slightest idea how McQuade would use his information; she didn't even care, so long as he used it. She grew indignant. The idea of that woman's posing as she did! The idea of her dreaming to hold permanently the footing she had gained in society! It was nothing short of monstrous. The ever-small voice of conscience spoke, but she refused to listen. She did not ask herself if what McQuade had in his possession was absolute truth. Humanity believes most what it most desires to believe. And aside from all this, it was a triumph, a vindication of her foresight.
"To the Western Union," she called to the groom. When the carriage drew up before the telegraph office, she gave the letter to the groom. "I found this on the sidewalk. Have them return it to the owner by messenger." This was done. "Now, home," she ordered.
That afternoon she attended a large reception. Her bland smile was as bland as ever, but her eyes shone with suppressed excitement. The Benningtons were there, but there was only a frigid nod when she encountered Mrs. Jack and Patty. She wondered that she nodded at all. She took her friend, Mrs. Fairchilds, into a corner. She simply had to tell some one of her discovery, or at least a hint of it.
"Do you recollect what I told you?"
"About—?" Mrs. Fairchilds glanced quickly at Mrs. Jack.
"Yes. Every word was true, and there will be a great upheaval shortly. But not a word to a soul. I never gossip, but in this instance I feel it my duty to warn you. How and where I learned the truth is immaterial. I have learned it, and that is sufficient. It is frightful; it makes my blood boil when I think of it. And she goes everywhere, as if she had a perfect right."
"What have you found?" Mrs. Fairchilds could scarcely breathe, so great was her curiosity.
"You will learn soon enough without my telling you." And that was all Mrs. Franklyn-Haldene would say.
But it was enough, enough for her purpose. Within an hour's time all the old doubt had been stirred into life again, and the meddlers gathered about for the feast. It is all so simple and easy.