While he was thinking thus elatedly, he remembered that he wanted some clean linen in the morning.
This he purchased, together with a half-dozen ties, and went to the Palmer House.
As he entered he thought he saw Drouet ascending the stairs with a key.
Surely not Drouet!
Then he thought, perhaps they had changed their abode temporarily.
He went straight up to the desk.
“Is Mr. Drouet stopping here?” he asked of the clerk.
“I think he is,” said the latter, consulting his private registry list.
“Yes.”
“Is that so?” exclaimed Hurstwood, otherwise concealing his astonishment.
“Alone?” he added.
“Yes,” said the clerk.
Hurstwood turned away and set his lips so as best to express and conceal his feelings.
“How’s that?” he thought.
“They’ve had a row.”
He hastened to his room with rising spirits and changed his linen.
As he did so, he made up his mind that if Carrie was alone, or if she had gone to another place, it behooved him to find out. He decided to call at once.
“I know what I’ll do,” he thought.
“I’ll go to the door and ask if Mr. Drouet is at home.
That will bring out whether he is there or not and where Carrie is.”
He was almost moved to some muscular display as he thought of it.
He decided to go immediately after supper.
On coming down from his room at six, he looked carefully about to see if Drouet was present and then went out to lunch.
He could scarcely eat, however, he was so anxious to be about his errand.
Before starting he thought it well to discover where Drouet would be, and returned to his hotel.
“Has Mr. Drouet gone out?” he asked of the clerk.
“No,” answered the latter, “he’s in his room.
Do you wish to send up a card?”
“No, I’ll call around later,” answered Hurstwood, and strolled out.
He took a Madison car and went direct to Ogden Place this time walking boldly up to the door.
The chambermaid answered his knock.
“Is Mr. Drouet in?” said Hurstwood blandly.
“He is out of the city,” said the girl, who had heard Carrie tell this to Mrs. Hale.
“Is Mrs. Drouet in?”
“No, she has gone to the theatre.”
“Is that so?” said Hurstwood, considerably taken back; then, as if burdened with something important,
“You don’t know to which theatre?”
The girl really had no idea where she had gone, but not liking Hurstwood, and wishing to cause him trouble, answered:
“Yes, Hooley’s.”
“Thank you,” returned the manager, and, tipping his hat slightly, went away.
“I’ll look in at Hooley’s,” thought he, but as a matter of fact he did not.
Before he had reached the central portion of the city he thought the whole matter over and decided it would be useless.
As much as he longed to see Carrie, he knew she would be with some one and did not wish to intrude with his plea there.
A little later he might do so — in the morning.
Only in the morning he had the lawyer question before him.
This little pilgrimage threw quite a wet blanket upon his rising spirits.
He was soon down again to his old worry, and reached the resort anxious to find relief.
Quite a company of gentlemen were making the place lively with their conversation.
A group of Cook County politicians were conferring about a round cherry-wood table in the rear portion of the room.
Several young merrymakers were chattering at the bar before making a belated visit to the theatre.