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Updated: May 22, 2025
Rosedale's drawing-room manner lacked perspective made Lily class him with Trenor and the other dull men she knew, and assume that a little flattery, and the occasional acceptance of his hospitality, would suffice to render him innocuous.
There was the cheque in her desk, for instance she meant to use it in paying her debt to Trenor; but she foresaw that when the morning came she would put off doing so, would slip into gradual tolerance of the debt. The thought terrified her she dreaded to fall from the height of her last moment with Lawrence Selden. But how could she trust herself to keep her footing?
Mrs. Trenor, true to her word, had shown no signs of expecting Lily at the bridge-table, and had even hinted to the other card-players that they were to betray no surprise at her unwonted defection. In consequence of this hint, Lily found herself the centre of that feminine solicitude which envelops a young woman in the mating season.
Whence the strength came to her she knew not; but an insistent voice warned her that she must leave the house openly, and nerved her, in the hall before the hovering care taker, to exchange light words with Trenor, and charge him with the usual messages for Judy, while all the while she shook with inward loathing.
If Lily's poetic enjoyment of the moment was undisturbed by the base thought that her gown and opera cloak had been indirectly paid for by Gus Trenor, the latter had not sufficient poetry in his composition to lose sight of these prosaic facts.
Trenor had turned away, and his companion continued to stand before Miss Bart, alert and expectant, his lips parted in a smile at whatever she might be about to say, and his very back conscious of the privilege of being seen with her.
As Lily's silence left him with this allusion on his hands, he added with a confidential smile: "Gus Trenor has promised to come to town on purpose. I fancy he'd go a good deal farther for the pleasure of seeing you." Miss Bart felt an inward motion of annoyance: it was distasteful enough to hear her name coupled with Trenor's, and on Rosedale's lips the allusion was peculiarly unpleasant.
She paused with a slight falter of embarrassment, and Trenor, turning abruptly, fixed on her a look of growing intelligence. "A great deal of money? Oh, by Jove you don't mean Gryce? What you do? Oh, no, of course I won't mention it you can trust me to keep my mouth shut but Gryce good Lord, GRYCE! Did Judy really think you could bring yourself to marry that portentous little ass?
She then wrote out a cheque for Trenor, and placing it, without an accompanying word, in an envelope inscribed with his name, laid the two letters side by side on her desk. After that she continued to sit at the table, sorting her papers and writing, till the intense silence of the house reminded her of the lateness of the hour.
She paused a moment before the last name, and shot a query through her lashes; but he remained imperturbable. "Mrs. Trenor asked me; but I can't get away till the end of the week; and those big parties bore me." "Ah, so they do me," she exclaimed. "Then why go?" "It's part of the business you forget! And besides, if I didn't, I should be playing bezique with my aunt at Richfield Springs."
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