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Harley. Dorothy, for argument of modesty and a girl's reserve, emulated her mother's example of silence. For one thing, she felt herself in no danger. As against the demands of Mrs. Hanway-Harley, Dorothy, thus far, had held the high ground. Moreover, she was confident of final victory. No one could compel her either to receive Storri's addresses or cease to think of Richard.
Hanway-Harley his stricken heart, backed himself out into the night. When Storri was gone, Mrs. Hanway-Harley resolved on an instant talk with Dorothy no more the innocent, but the artful one. She would make a last attempt to wring from her the name of that lover of the shadows. Should it be Richard and she was sure of it that aspiring journalist must never again cross the Harley threshold. Mrs.
Storri received the excuses for Dorothy's vacant place at table which Mrs. Hanway-Harley offered; for all that he read the reason of her absence, and his pride fretted under it as under a lash. New Year's Day; and the diplomatic reception at the White House. The President stood in line with his Cabinet people, and the others filed by.
Hanway-Harley's feathers showed less excitement. Mr. Gwynn should be sounded on the subject of bequests. Why not put the question to Mr. Storms? It would at least lead to the development of that equivocal gentleman's expectations. "Has Mr. Gwynn any family in England?" asked Mrs. Hanway-Harley. "A nephew or two, I believe; possibly a brother." "But he will make you his heir." "Me?"
What is to be my attitude towards your daughter, while I am searching for that fortune?" It was here that Mrs. Hanway-Harley made her greatest stroke; she reached Richard where he had no defense. "Your attitude, Mr. Storms, towards my daughter, I shall leave to you for adjustment as a man of honor." Richard crossed the street to Dorothy and told her what had passed.
When Dorothy at last came in, Mrs. Hanway-Harley lost no time in skirmishing, but at once opened the main battle. "My child," said she, with a look that she meant should be ineffably affectionate, and which was not, "Count Storri has been talking of you." "Yes?" queried Dorothy, with sinking heart, but making a gallant effort at childish innocence. Mrs. Hanway-Harley lost patience.
As he threw it open preparatory to issuing forth, there floated back with a puff of cigar smoke these words, delivered presumably for the good of Mrs. Hanway-Harley: "Yes, madam; blood to my elbows!" "Your father is insane!" groaned Mrs. Hanway-Harley to Dorothy, when the door had slammed and Mr. Harley was on his way to Storri, "absolutely insane!" Then Mrs.
Hanway-Harley, not unkindly. "Believe me, Mr. Storms: no man should ask a woman in marriage unless he can care for her as she was cared for in her father's house." "But the father's fortune is not sure," remonstrated Richard. "The father's riches, or the lover's poverty, may vanish in a night." "We must deal with the present," said Mrs. Hanway-Harley.
"Suppose I thank him for them," observed Mrs. Hanway-Harley; "that would bring him out!" "No, no," exclaimed Dorothy hastily; "it might embarrass the Count." "Pshaw! I'll ask the florist." "No; that would offend the Count. You see, mamma, he thinks that we will know without asking. He would hardly regard our ignorance as a compliment," and Dorothy pouted. "You'd spoil everything." Mrs.
Hanway-Harley was discreet, and both displayed talents for intrigue and execution that, on other days, in other fields, might well have saved a state. And yet there was no blushing progress to the love-making! Dorothy's behavior was unaccountable. The first evening she sat in marble silence, like an image. The next, she would not come down to dinner, saying she was sick and could not eat.
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