On the day of that curious "compromise," our friend and his victims had
been arguing till late in the evening; and then van Rensselaer had taken
a cab and driven up town. Feeling the need of fresh air and movement, he
had done something unusual with him--gotten out and strolled along upper
Broadway.
It was after the dinner hour at home, and he was bending his steps
toward his club; but passing a brilliantly lighted restaurant, from
which strains of music poured, he yielded to a sudden impulse and went
in.
It was an unusual adventure to our hero; for it was rather a flashy
restaurant, with gayly dressed women in it and men smoking. He watched
them awhile, and then turned to study the menu.
Famous as were his banquets, van Rensselaer himself was a man of very
simple tastes, all his splendor coming from his desire to please other
people. At present he ordered a cocktail, and sipped it meditatively
while the waiter placed before him a plate of raw oysters, of a delicate
and palatable variety. Before he ate them he ordered the next course,
some sweetbreads and a quail on toast, fresh asparagus, and artichokes
prepared in a special way; the waiter listened carefully to the
description of exactly how the sweetbreads were to be cooked, and
exactly the kind of sauce desired with the asparagus. "And bring me a
pint of _Chambertin_," added the guest; "the best you have."
While the waiter departed Mr. Robert van Rensselaer carefully tasted the
oysters. The sweetbreads, when they came, proved to be correct, the wine
was better than he had hoped, and so he felt quite pleased with himself.
Now and then during the repast he would pause to breathe and gaze round
him; he was growing rather stout, unfortunately, and at his meals he
felt it. But he finished at last and smacked his lips, and leaned far
back in his chair and began to light a cigar.
The cigars of Robert van Rensselaer were, like everything else that he
used, of his own importation; the aroma of them was a thing ambrosial,
and so our friend half closed his eyes and felt very happy indeed. With
the wine stirring in his blood, and his stomach purring contentedly,
what more could a civilized man desire?
There was but one thing; as Mr. van Rensselaer was gazing about the
room, he suddenly espied it. His eye was arrested at a table across the
way, where sat two women. One of them was a very stout woman, with
yellow hair and many jewels. But the other--he had never seen anything
like her before. She was a young girl--not out of her teens--and of a
wonderful delicate beauty. She was plainly dressed, and pale; but her
skin was like finely tinted marble, and her face--van Rensselaer could
simply not take his eyes away from her face.
And then suddenly the woman saw his gaze, and smiled. He saw her nudge
the girl with her foot, and the girl looked up at him; then she turned
scarlet, and gazed down at her plate. Van Rensselaer's heart beat
faster, and he finished his demi-tasse rather quickly and threw away his
cigar. When he saw that the women were ready to leave, he beckoned to
the waiter, and after glancing at his check, gave him a twenty-dollar
bill and told him to keep the change. Then he took his overcoat and
strolled slowly out.
The women were just in front of him, and he came up with them at the
corner; they turned and strolled down a side street.
"Your friend seems a little shy," he said, laughing, as he put himself
by the young girl's side, and gently took her arm.
"Just a little," replied the woman. "She has only been in New York a few
days. Miss Harrison, Mr.--er--"
"Mr. Green," said the other.
"Mr. Green," repeated the woman, with a smile, "and Mrs. Lynch,
myself."
So they were happily introduced. "And where are you going?" asked Mr.
Green.
"We were just on our way home," said Mrs. Lynch.
They strolled on down the street; the man felt the soft arm trembling in
his, but the girl said nothing, and never raised her eyes when he spoke
to her. Mrs. Lynch kept up the conversation until they reached a brown
stone house. The curtains were drawn, but one could see chinks of light,
and as the woman opened the door sounds of merriment broke upon the ear.
The door of the parlor was open, but they passed by, and into a rear
room, lighted by a dim lamp; they shut the door, and then everything was
quiet.
"Make yourselves at home," said Mrs. Lynch, taking off her hat and
wraps. Mr. Green did likewise, and sat down upon the sofa.
The girl seated herself. She was still pale and trembling, but Mrs.
Lynch did not notice it, conversing lightly with her new acquaintance.
Suddenly, however, she arose, remarking, "I have something to attend
to, if you'll excuse me." So, frowning down the girl's attempt to
remonstrate, she disappeared, shutting the door.