“Poor woman,” murmured Vreeland, with an agitation which did not escape Potter. The little man was all broken up.
“See here, Vreeland!” cried Potter, “I have had a glimpse into a real woman’s heart. This fatal quarrel with the Willoughby has wrecked two lives. Hathorn believed Mrs. Willoughby to be invincible in the Street.
“He tried to follow her game. She is reported to have dealt in Sugar up to several millions.
“Do you suppose that she laid a trap for Hathorn’s wife to fall into? Who gave her the false tips? I hope that the author of this misery will roast in hell.”
“I know nothing. I am not in speculative stocks,” musingly said Vreeland.
“Someone may have taken advantage of the Hathorns and lured them on by pretending to give them Mrs. Willoughby’s game. I am busied here now, half the day, with my own private matters.”
“It was soul-murder, whoever did it,” said Potter. “Alida Hathorn went in nobly to help and save her husband. To aid him, to square him with the Street and his firm, and then to take him forever out of the turmoil and convoy him over to Europe. She has loads of money, you know. But, the Ring was too much for him.
“He plunged, too, on her tip, and then came the crash, his flight, and now his untimely death. It’s all due to the one who lured Alida Hathorn on to ruin her husband. It was a fiend’s work.” A silence reigned, a gloomy acquiescence.
Vreeland was moodily regarding the falling snow through the darkened panes when Jimmy Potter sighed and said: “Well, it’s good-by, old fellow. I’ve got an expert with Wolfe going over the real honest debts.
“I shall stay over there, advise with Alida and see that the sufferers get their money. For she has been a wifely sacrifice; she is high-spirited and true, she outclassed Hathorn. Mrs. Willoughby set him up, and then threw him down.