At the Clarendon Club, where
he had gone, a couple of hours before, to verify a certain news item for
the morning paper, he had heard a story about Tom Delamere which, he
imagined, would spike that gentleman's guns for all time, so far as Miss
Pemberton was concerned. So grave an affair as cheating at cards could
never be kept secret,--it was certain to reach her ears; and Ellis was
morally certain that Clara would never marry a man who had been proved
dishonorable. In all probability there would be no great sensation
about the matter. Delamere was too well connected; too many prominent
people would be involved--even Clara, and the editor himself, of whom
Delamere was a distant cousin. The reputation of the club was also to be
considered. Ellis was not the man to feel a malicious delight in the
misfortunes of another, nor was he a pessimist who welcomed scandal and
disgrace with open arms, as confirming a gloomy theory of human life.
But, with the best intentions in the world, it was no more than human
nature that he should feel a certain elation in the thought that his
rival had been practically disposed of, and the field left clear;
especially since this good situation had been brought about merely by
the unmasking of a hypocrite, who had held him at an unfair disadvantage
in the race for Clara's favor.
The night was quiet, except for the faint sound of distant music now and
then, or the mellow laughter of some group of revelers. Ellis met but
few pedestrians, but as he neared old Mr.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184