He paid the chauffeur and climbed the stairs with throbbing heart. It was an old building—one of a row of old brownstone houses, which had long since been altered into flats, family hotels and specialty shops. It had an air of venerable, picturesque decay, an atmosphere of an older, less feverish, more homogeneous New York. In the heavy oak door, beneath a polished brass knocker, he found a button and pressed it. Presently the door opened and a gray-haired lady, with a piqued face and gold-rimmed spectacles, peered guardedly through the opening and falteringly inquired his business. He told her.
After a moment’s inspection, she let him enter and ushered him into the front room—a high-ceilinged one, with a bay window, a white-tiled mantel in one corner and a heavy flowered carpet on the floor. Miss Meadows would be back at one o’clock. It was almost that now and would he sit down there and look at the papers until she came?
Hamilton contented himself with gazing about the room. He walked over to the mantelpiece and idly inspected the ornaments—a china clock, an old-fashioned Dresden doll, and a vase containing fresh violets. He remembered that he had neglected to bring Dorothy flowers.
He turned to face the window, across which a heavily upholstered red plush settee extended. Through the lace curtain the spring sunshine fell in a golden stream. The sounds of passing persons and vehicles came to him from the street. Suddenly in the sunlight he noticed an envelope—a long official envelope. He felt of his pockets, which were bristling with official orders, as he stooped to pick it up. He had probably dropped it in removing his handkerchief. Yes, it bore his name. He was straightening up, when he heard footsteps on the stairs and a voice which he recognized as Dorothy’s. He had time to place the letter in his pocket when the door opened and Dorothy came in, her arms stretched out, a smile on her flushed face. Hamilton noticed that little strands of hair were blowing loose.
“Captain Hamilton, how are you?” she crossed over to him and gave him her hands. Hamilton’s heart beat wildly.
“This is such a surprise. Dr. Levin told me he had seen you.”
Hamilton mumbled something and was conscious of being very red.
“Yes. I’m going back to Corinth tonight and I thought I should like to see you before I leave—renew our acquaintance.”
“That was splendid of you,” she said.
In a few words they told what had happened since their last meeting and finally Hamilton suggested that they lunch together.