It was not as bad as he expected. The Dunns occupied a small,
brown-stone house on Fifth Avenue, somewhat old-fashioned, but eminently
respectable. The paintings and bronzes were as numerous as those in the
Warren apartment, and if the taste shown in their selection was not that
of Rodgers Warren, the connoisseur, they made quite as much show, and
the effect upon Captain Elisha was the same. The various mortgages on
the property were not visible, and the tradesmen's bills were securely
locked in Mrs. Dunn's desk.
The luncheon itself was elaborate, and there was a butler whose majestic
dignity and importance made even Edwards seem plebeian by comparison.
Malcolm was at home when they arrived, irreproachably dressed and
languidly non-effusive, as usual. Captain Elisha, as he often said,
did not "set much store" by clothes; but there was something about this
young man which always made him conscious that his own trousers were a
little too short, or his boots too heavy, or something. "I wouldn't
WEAR a necktie like his," he wrote Abbie, after his first meeting with
Malcolm, "but blessed if I don't wish I could IF I would!"
Caroline, in the course of conversation during the luncheon, mentioned
the Moriartys and their sorrow. The captain tried to head her off and
to change the subject, but with little success.
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