The tone in which she spoke these words was so perfectly quiet and resigned, so utterly lacking in vulgar desire to advertise her woes, that James felt deeply moved. He could not think of anything to say to reassure or encourage her. Presently he blurted out, desperately:
"You've got a good husband in Edward Jennings, anyway. He's a good chap, according to all accounts...."
She smiled, deprecatorily. "He's a nice boy. But he'll never make any money."
James made up an excuse to consult Mr. Raynham again, and after that walked the snow-covered streets till dinner time. His first impulse was to look up Harry, but he discarded the idea; he would not see him, Aunt Selina, any one, till his task was done, every detail completed. He dined alone in an obscure restaurant and with some difficulty succeeded in frittering away the time till ten o'clock, at which hour he returned to the barber shop on Chapel Street.
He proceeded at once to business, taking out two papers which he gave to Miss Mowbray to sign. She read and signed without comment. When she had finished he said: "Would you mind delivering this for me?" and handed her an unsealed envelope bearing the simple superscription "Mr. Edward Jennings."
Miss Mowbray fingered the envelope indecisively a moment; then she opened it and took out the contents.
She rose from her seat and glanced apprehensively at James. "I can't—we—thank you, but I simply can't accept this," she whispered.
"Nobody asked you to do anything, except deliver the letter," replied James cheerfully. "I'd like to know what business you have opening other people's letters, anyway. It isn't nice.—Wedding present, you know," he went on, with a change of voice; "I'm rather hoping to have the honor of giving you your first. Please try to make him accept it from me, won't you? Good-by!"
He shook her hand quickly and was actually off before she had time to offer another word of objection.
He made his way straight across the snowy street to Harry's rooms in Vanderbilt Hall. There was no answer to his knock, but the door yielded to a turn of the knob—how like Harry to leave it unlocked! The room was dark and empty, but he went in and found the embers of a fire dying on the hearth. He threw off his hat and overcoat, struck a light and looked about for materials with which to rebuild the fire.