I had purposely held aloof from Mamie Rutger, feeling convinced that it were best not to approach her until a definite course of action had been decided upon. Nor was I entirely certain that my scheme would succeed. If Amy Holmes should prove a shade wiser, shrewder, and more courageous, and a trifle less selfish and avaricious than I had judged her to be, my plans might fail and, in that case, the girl might work me much mischief.
I weighed the possibilities thoughtfully, and resolved to risk the chances.
Accordingly, on the morning after my visit to the Little Adelphi, I sent my first telegram, and made arrangements for putting my scheme into execution.
The beginning of the programme was carried out, as planned by the young lady.
We drove to the café, kept by Louis Meniu, and tested his champagne, after which I began to execute my plans.
"Louis Meniu might be all very well," I said, "but there was no man in New Orleans, so I had often been told by Northern travelers, who could serve such a dinner as did the chef at the P—— Hotel. Should we drive to this house and there eat the best dinner to be served in the city?"
The prospect of dining at a swell hotel pleased the young lady. She gave instant consent to the plan, and we turned back to the city and the P—— Hotel.
Here we were soon installed in a handsome private parlor, and, after I had paused a few moments in the office, to register, "Geo. Adams and sister, St. Louis, Mo.," I closed the door upon servants and intruders, and the engagement commenced.
Having first locked the door and put the key in my pocket, I approached Miss Amy, who stood before a mirror, carelessly arranging a yellow rose in her black frisettes. Dropping my swaggering, half-maudlin, wholly-admiring tone and manner, I said, quietly: