She gave a shudder of horror, and wiped her right hand with her left. "Oh, to think that he dared!" She wiped her hand on her handkerchief.
At that moment a servant brought in a card. As Mrs. Lancaster gazed at it, her eyes flashed and her lip curled.
"Say that Mrs. Lancaster begs to be excused."
"Yes, madam." The servant hesitated. "I think he heard you talking, madam."
"Say that Mrs. Lancaster begs to be excused," she said firmly.
The servant, with a bow, withdrew.
She handed the card to Keith. On it was the name of the Rev. William H. Rimmon.
Mr. Rimmon, as he stood in the hall, was in unusually good spirits, though slightly perturbed. He had determined to carry through a plan that he had long pondered over. He had decided to ask Mrs. Lancaster to become Mrs. Rimmon.
As Keith glanced toward the door, he caught Mr. Rimmon's eye. He was waiting on the threshold and rubbing his hands with eager expectancy. Just then the servant gave him the message. Keith saw his countenance fall and his face blanch. He turned, picked up his hat, and slipped out of the door, with a step that was almost a slink.
As Mr. Rimmon passed down the street he knew that he had reached a crisis in his life. He went to see Wickersham, but that gentleman was in no mood for condolences. Everything had gone against him. He was facing utter ruin. Rimmon's upbraiding angered him.