“His devotion is quite amusing,” laughed Mrs. Osborn, as she seated herself before her escritoire and began writing. Presently, turning to Mrs. Horton, she said: “Here is your reply:”
“Dr. Jack Redfield,
“Sir:—My daughter has referred your several rather amusing and absurd letters to me for reply, and desires me to say that your communications annoy her very much. As she is already betrothed to Lord Avondale, and will be married in a short time, you certainly cannot, if you possess any gentlemanly breeding, wish to intrude further upon her your unreciprocated attentions.
“Respectfully.”
“Oh, Lucy,” cried Mrs. Horton, half-hysterically, “I cannot sign such a letter; I cannot indeed. Let it go unanswered.”
“Just as you say,” she replied, while a tigerish look of hatred and disdain arose to her usually pretty face. “Perhaps,” she went on, in a low purring voice that required an effort to modulate, “it will be as well to dismiss all thought of Doctor Redfield. I am quite sure we shall never hear of him again.”
Soon after, Mrs. Horton took her leave and, as she drove slowly homeward, she was glad that she had not signed that awful letter. She sighed a little, as if a weight rested on her conscience. “I am truly glad,” she said to herself, “that Lord Avondale will soon be with us.”
Mrs. Osborn was provoked at her friend’s lack of courage in grappling with and crushing all possible danger. After the departure of Mrs. Horton, she read Jack Redfield’s letter again. Then she read the reply which she had prepared for Mrs. Horton to sign. “This letter ought to be sent,” she observed, “or I am no general.” Dipping her pen in the ink, she addressed an envelope to Dr. Jack Redfield, then—turning to the letter—she paused a moment. Her courage failed her, and she laid down the pen. Unlocking a small drawer of her escritoire, she took out a bundle of letters, and, selecting the topmost one, commenced reading. As she read one after another, a passionate light animated her beautiful face and eyes. “Lenox, dear Lenox!” she murmured. “Yes, I will do it.”
Taking up the pen, she hastily signed the name of Mrs. J. Bruce-Horton to the letter, then carefully enclosing it in the envelope, she went quickly out and posted it.
Thus, at the expense of conscience, she made an instalment payment on a title for Ethel Horton.