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Catherwaight, while she was alive, lived solely for society, and, so some people said, not only lived but died for it. She certainly did go about a great deal, and she used to carry her husband away from his library every night of every season and left him standing in the doorways of drawing-rooms, outwardly courteous and distinguished looking, but inwardly somnolent and unhappy.
Miss Catherwaight stood wondering if the Lewis L. Lockwood could be Lewis Lockwood, the lawyer one read so much about. Then she remembered his middle name was Lyman, and said quickly, "I'll take it, please." She stepped into the carriage, and told the man to go find a directory and look for Lewis Lyman Lockwood.
Good-night," he said as he bowed above her hand, "and God bless you!" Miss Catherwaight flushed slightly at what he had said, and sat looking down at the floor for a moment after the door had closed behind him. Young Mr. Latimer moved uneasily in his chair.
And so the medal meant nothing to them: their conscience told them they had done the right thing; they didn't need a stamped coin to remind them of it, or of their wounds, either, perhaps." "Quite right; that's quite true," Miss Catherwaight would say. "But how about this?
The gallant Hiram J. had pawned it for sixteen dollars and never came back to claim it." "But, Miss Catherwaight," some optimist would object, "these men undoubtedly did do something brave and noble once. You can't get back of that; and they didn't do it for a medal, either, but because it was their duty.
The groom returned in a few minutes and said there was such a name down in the book as a lawyer, and that his office was such a number on Broadway; it must be near Liberty. "Go there," said Miss Catherwaight.
Miss Catherwaight was well known to the proprietors of the pawnshops and loan offices on the Bowery and Park Row. They learned to look for her once a month, and saved what medals they received for her and tried to learn their stories from the people who pawned them, or else invented some story which they hoped would answer just as well.
I will act on what you have suggested. I will see if this has or has not been one long, unprofitable mistake. If my visit should be fruitless, I will send you this coin to add to your collection of dishonored honors, but if it should result as I hope it may, it will be your doing, Miss Catherwaight, and two old men will have much to thank you for.
Miss Catherwaight sat upright, and reached out for the card with a nervous, gasping little laugh. "Oh, I think it must be for me," she said; "I'm quite sure it is intended for me. I was at his office to-day, you see, to return him some keepsake of his that I found in an old curiosity shop. Something with his name on it that had been stolen from him and pawned. It was just a trifle.
He was very attentive, though; very attentive." Miss Catherwaight stood startled and motionless at the door from which she had turned. "Attentive to whom?" she asked quickly, and in a very low voice. "To my mother?" Mr. Catherwaight did not deign to open his eyes this time, but moved his head uneasily as if he wished to be let alone.
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