Pete felt her interest sweep away from his affairs, and it had not returned when the telephone rang. He came back from answering it to tell his mother that Mr. Lanley, the grandfather of his love, was asking if she would see him for a few minutes that afternoon or evening. A visit was arranged for nine o’clock.
“What’s he like?” asked Mrs. Wayne, wrinkling her nose and looking very impish.
“He seemed like a nice old boy; hasn’t had a new idea, I should say, since 1880. And, Mother dear, you’re going to dress, aren’t you?”
She resented the implication.
“I shall be wonderful,” she answered with emphasis. “And while he’s here, I think you might go down and tell this news to Lily, yourself. Oh, I don’t say she’s in love with you—”
“Lily,” said Pete, “is leading far too exciting a life to be in love with any one.”
Punctually at nine, Mr. Lanley rang the bell of the flat. He had paused a few minutes before doing so, not wishing to weaken the effect of his mission by arriving out of breath. Adelaide had come to see him just before lunch. She pretended to minimize the importance of her news, but he knew she did so to evade reproach for the culpable irresponsibility of her attitude toward the young man’s first visit.
“And do you know anything more about him than you did yesterday?” he asked.
She did. It appeared that Vincent had telephoned her from down town just before she came out.
“Tiresome young man,” she said, twisting her shoulders. “It seems there’s nothing against him. His father was a doctor, his mother comes of decent people and is a respected reformer, the young man works for an ambitious new firm of brokers, who speak highly of him and give him a salary of $5000 a year.”