“I will—­I will!” she declared.

And Montague judged that she carried out her promise quickly, for the rest of the evening Ryder gave to entertaining the company.  About midnight Montague chanced to look into the library, and he saw the president of the Gotham Trust in the midst of a group which was excitedly discussing divorce.  “Marriage is a sin for which the church refuses absolution!” he heard Stanley Ryder exclaiming.

CHAPTER III

A few days after these incidents, Montague was waiting for a friend who was to come to dinner at his hotel.  He was sitting in the lobby reading a paper, and he noticed an elderly gentleman with a grey goatee and rather florid complexion who passed down the corridor before him.  A minute or two later he happened to glance up, and he caught this gentleman’s eye.

The latter started, and a look of amazement came over his face.  He came forward, saying, “I beg pardon, but is not this Allan Montague?”

“It is,” said Montague, looking at him in perplexity.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” said the other.

“I must confess that I do not,” was the answer.

“I am Colonel Cole.”

But Montague only knitted his brows in greater perplexity.  “Colonel Cole?” he repeated.

“You were too young to remember me,” the other said.  “I have been at your house a dozen times.  I was in your father’s brigade.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Montague.  “I beg your pardon.”

“Don’t mention it, don’t mention it,” said the other, taking a seat beside him.  “It was really extraordinary that I should recall you.  And how is your brother?  Is he in New York?”

“He is,” said Montague.

“And your mother?  She is still living, I trust?”

“Oh, yes,” said he.  “She is in this hotel.”

“It is really an extraordinary pleasure!” exclaimed the other.  “I did not think I knew a soul in New York.”

“You are visiting here?” asked Montague.

“From the West,” said the Colonel.

“It is curious how things follow out,” he continued, after a pause.  “I was thinking about your father only this very day.  I had a proposal from someone who wanted to buy some stock that I have—­in the Northern Mississippi Railroad.”

Montague gave a start.  “You don’t mean it!” he said.

“Yes,” said the other.  “Your father persuaded me to take some of the stock, away back in the old days.  And I have had it ever since.  I had forgotten all about it.”

Montague smiled.  “When you have disposed of yours,” he said, “you might refer your party to me.  I know of some more that is for sale.”

“I have no doubt,” said the Colonel.  “But I fancy it won’t fetch much now.  I don’t remember receiving any dividends.”

There was a pause.  “It is a curious coincidence,” said the other.  “I, too, have been thinking about the railroad.  My friend, Mrs. Taylor, has just come up from New Orleans.  She used to be Lucy Dupree.”