While Rondeau was carrying on his flirtation in the kitchen, Dr. Lacey was
differently employed. Hope deferred had well nigh made his heart sick.
"What can be the reason," thought he, "that Fanny does not write? I have
written repeatedly for the last two months and have had no answer." Then
as a new idea struck him, he added, "Yes, I'll write to Mr. Miller, and
ask him what has happened." Suiting the action to the word, he drew up his
writing desk, and in a short time a letter was written and directed to Mr.
Miller.
He arose to summon Rondeau to take it to the office; but ere he had
touched the bell rope, pride whispered, "Don't send that letter; don't let
Mr. Miller into your private affairs. If Fanny were sick, some one would
write to you."
So the bell was not rung, and during the next half-hour Dr. Lacey amused
himself by mechanically tearing it into small fragments. Ah, Dr. Lacey,
'twas a sorry moment when you listened to the whispering of that pride!
Had that letter been sent, it would have saved you many sleepless nights
of sorrow. But it was not to be.
That night there was to be a large party at the house of Mr. Mortimer,
whom Leffie had mentioned as second to the Laceys in wealth. Mr. Mortimer
was the uncle at whose house Florence Woodburn was visiting, and the party
was given in honor of her arrival, and partly to celebrate Mabel
Mortimer's birthday. Mabel was an intelligent, accomplished girl, and
besides being something of a beauty, was the heiress expectant of several
hundred thousand. This constituted her quite a belle, and for three or
four years past she and Dr. Lacey had been given to each other by the
clever gossips of New Orleans. Mr. Lacey senior was also rather anxious
that his son should marry Mabel; so Julia was not far out of the way when
she wrote to Fanny that Dr. Lacey's parents wished to secure a match
between him and a New Orleans belle. Had Dr. Lacey never seen Fanny, he
possibly might have wedded Mabel. But his was a heart which could love but
once, and although the object of his love should prove untrue, his
affections could not easily be transferred to another; so that it was all
in vain that Mabel Mortimer, on the evening of the party, stood before her
mirror arranging and rearranging the long curls of her dark hair and the
folds of her rich white satin, wondering all the while if Dr. Lacey would
approve her style of dress.