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Updated: May 6, 2025
You needn't go down, dear; I'll see him. It was I he asked for, I'm sure; was it not, Morris?" Morris was not quite sure; being such an old gentleman, he thought it must be for Mr. Catherwaight he'd come. Mr. Catherwaight was not greatly interested. He did not like to disturb his after-dinner nap, and he settled back in his chair again and refolded his hands.
Miss Catherwaight had listened in silence and with one little gloved hand tightly clasping the other. "Indeed, Mr. Latimer, indeed," she began, tremulously, "I am terribly ashamed of myself. I seemed to have rushed in where angels fear to tread. I wouldn't meet Mr. Lockwood now for worlds. Of course I might have known there was a woman in the case, it adds so much to the story.
"To your mother, of course, my child," he answered; "of whom else was I speaking?" Miss Catherwaight went down the stairs to the drawing-room slowly, and paused half-way to allow this new suggestion to settle in her mind. There was something distasteful to her, something that seemed not altogether unblamable, in a woman's having two men quarrel about her, neither of whom was the woman's husband.
Young Van Bibber had said that if Miss Catherwaight did not like dances and days and teas, she had only to stop going to them instead of making unpleasant remarks about those who did. So many people repeated this that young Van Bibber believed finally that he had said something good, and was somewhat pleased in consequence, as he was not much given to that sort of thing. Mrs.
But I have always followed his life as a judge and as a lawyer, and respected him for his own sake as a man. I cannot tell I do not know how he feels toward me." The old lawyer turned the medal over in his hand and stood looking down at it wistfully. The cynical Miss Catherwaight could not stand it any longer. "Mr. Lockwood," she said, impulsively, "Mr.
Latimer, was in and would see her. She had only time to remember that the junior partner was a dancing acquaintance of hers, before young Mr. Latimer stood before her smiling, and with her card in his hand. "Mr. Lockwood is out just at present, Miss Catherwaight," he said, "but he will be back in a moment. Won't you come into the other room and wait? I'm sure he won't be away over five minutes.
They had been sitting there some time, he with his hands folded on the evening paper and with his eyes closed, when the servant brought in a card and offered it to Mr. Catherwaight. Mr. Catherwaight fumbled over his glasses, and read the name on the card aloud: "'Mr. Lewis L. Lockwood. Dear me!" he said; "what can Mr. Lockwood be calling upon me about?"
Davis's own vein, not in the borrowed vein of Bret Harte or anybody else. 'The Cynical Miss Catherwaight' is very good, too, and 'Mr. Raegen' is still better." But on the other hand, it makes me tired, and so does this: "'The Other Woman' is a story which offends good taste in more than one way.
"It really has a story. You say you found this on the Bowery, in a pawnshop. Indeed! Well, of course, you know Mr. Lockwood could not have left it there." Miss Catherwaight shook her head vehemently and smiled in deprecation. "This medal was in his safe when he lived on Thirty-fifth Street at the time he was robbed, and the burglars took this with the rest of the silver and pawned it, I suppose.
After one of these dinners people always asked to be allowed to look over Miss Catherwaight's collection, of which almost everybody had heard. It consisted of over a hundred medals and decorations which Miss Catherwaight had purchased while on the long tours she made with her father in all parts of the world.
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