“Evidently the gentleman doesn’t know that our young lady is married,” thought the servant, and he answered with a smile:
“The lady has changed her address, sir. You will find her at No. — Fifty-second Street.”
The man would have given him additional information in the next breath, but at that instant John Dinsmore turned swiftly, and with a courteous bow descended the steps.
“Probably an old beau of our young lady’s,” thought the servant, gazing thoughtfully after the tall, commanding form. “I should say also that he is not a New Yorker, or he would have known all about Miss Queenie’s marriage to the old millionaire, who turned out on his death to be almost a pauper. That ought to be a warning to all young girls who would marry old men for their supposed wealth.”
Meanwhile John Dinsmore was making his way with long, swinging strides to the address given, which he knew could be scarcely more than a couple of blocks or so away.
He could not see much of the exterior of the house, for, although scarcely five in the afternoon, it was already dark.
Once again he asked for Miss Trevalyn, instead of inquiring for Mrs. Trevalyn, his thoughts were, alas! so full of the girl he had loved so madly, so deeply—and lost so cruelly.
The servant stared for an instant blankly, but in the next he remembered that that was the name of his young mistress before her marriage, and with a low bow invited the gentleman to enter, throwing open the drawing-room door for him.
John Dinsmore knew that she would recognize the name his card bore at the first glance.
After much consideration he had thought it best to acquaint Mrs. Trevalyn with the true state of affairs before seeing Jess—she being the girl’s hostess, and the one whom she would seek advice from—after he had had his interview with her.