After reading this, Mr. Mitchel completed his toilet, used the despatch to light a cigarette, and then took his fiancée to the opera.
CHAPTER XIV.
AN INTERRUPTED WEDDING.
During the time spent by Mr. Barnes in the South, his spies in New York discovered little, or nothing, against the persons whom they had been charged to watch. Indeed from the standpoint of a detective, the actions of all had been most uninteresting. The usual round of social affairs, the customary number of theatre or opera parties, the regular afternoon teas, in fact the ordinary routine life of the man or woman of fashion, was all that could be observed. Yet of course these weeks did not pass without any occurrence of note. The chief one perhaps, was the naming of the day, upon which the wedding of Mr. Mitchel and Miss Remsen was to occur. This was May 5th, the very day upon which Mr. Barnes would reach New York with Mr. Neuilly.
Thus, fate seemed hurrying on a climax which was to occur on the wedding day. In New Orleans a detective was seeking evidence upon which he hoped to convict a man of the heinous crime of murder, whilst in New York a beautiful woman was bestowing her faith upon this same man, and with the assistance of many fingers, preparing to bedeck herself in bridal finery for his delectation. Meanwhile, the man himself acted most unconcernedly. He seemed to consider himself beyond the risk of danger, and he accepted his happiness as does one who had honorably earned it.
Of much interest to us, in the light of fast approaching events, was the curious conduct of Dora Remsen during this period. It will be remembered that Mr. Randolph had lost an opportunity of declaring himself, and that he warned the young lady against Mr. Thauret as one not to be trusted. This kind of advice, it is to be presumed, is offered by the one giving it, with some idea, however distant, that it may be accepted. Yet the histories of many lives would show that only a small percentage of similar advice has ever been received with acquiescence. Indeed, it might also be said that many persons have been hurried into each other's arms by the interference of wiseacres, when perhaps, if left to themselves, they would have drifted apart. At least so it seemed in this case. Mr. Thauret had become not only a constant visitor at the home of the Remsens', but he seemed a welcome one. He certainly was a most entertaining man, and his manners utterly unapproachable. He had travelled, and not only had seen the world, but had observed it, which is another thing. The result of this was that he had a fund of narrative always at his disposal, and his conversation was so attractive that he easily monopolized the attention of a coterie at any social gathering. Mr. Randolph noted with growing uneasiness that Dora was always one of the group who listened to these tales. What disturbed him most, was that after the greatest amount of time spent and wasted, in seeking some flagrant defect in the man's character, he was at last compelled to acknowledge to himself that he had nothing against Mr. Thauret, except a prejudice. But that prejudice was as great, if not greater, than ever. He determined at length to speak to Mr. Mitchel about it, and did so one afternoon when the rooms were crowded, his rival being as usual the centre of an attentive group.
"Mitchel," he began, "how the deuce did that fellow Thauret get into this family?"
"Dora met him somewhere, I believe. Why?"