He also had been in Washington for more than a year. He had come, as he had told Maria Kimberly he contemplated doing, with Mr. Hamilton, who had opened the ---- House the first of that season. He had served him for nearly a year, and then, through the influence of some gentlemen who were guests in the hotel, he had secured a government position, and was proving himself so efficient he bade fair to rise still higher in the service of the nation.
It is rather remarkable that he and Mollie should never have met before during all this time; but it was one of those happenings which can never be accounted for.
And even though they had at last encountered each other, he experienced the same perplexity that Mollie had felt, not knowing whether she was there merely for a few days, as a sightseer, and would immediately float away again beyond his reach, or whether her father had some official position and was residing in the city. It was all very tantalizing, especially the fact that he did not even know her name. He had often heard Mrs. Temple call her Mollie, and Philip Wentworth had refused to tell him anything about her, except to boast that she was his fiancée.
Then, as these memories crowded upon him, he caught his breath sharply as a sudden, terrible fear took possession of him. Possibly this fair Mollie, this gloriously beautiful girl, who was his ideal of all that was perfect in womanhood, might already be Philip's wife, for only a day or two previous the Temples had passed him on the street in their carriage, and his former classmate was with them.
When Mollie entered the office that morning she found it empty, Monsieur Lamonti not having arrived, although he was almost invariably there before her. He came a few moments later, however, but appeared sad and preoccupied, and upon Mollie inquiring if he were ill he said no, but that Lucille was far from well. She had been feverish and restless all night. He had called a physician that morning, but he spoke lightly, saying that her indisposition was only the effect of a slight cold, and she would be all right in a day or two.
But the gentleman was evidently very much disturbed, and finally confessed to Mollie that he would be obliged to go to New York that afternoon, and could not return until the next evening. The approaching separation and suspense, he said, seemed almost unbearable, particularly as Lucille was ill.