“She might at least have spoken to me herself,” she grumbled, flying to the mirror.
“Who?” said Jerry.
“My New York cousin. Things always come in bunches with me!”
Yes, Cousin Mabel certainly might have talked to her, if only to tell her what to expect, she thought as she went down to attack the lobby vaguely. But Cousin Mabel was standing by a pillar and came over to her immediately.
“Joy?” she asked with a smile its recipient recognised as genuine: “Well, I think we should have known each other anywhere—or is it mere fond vanity that tells me we look alike?”
Cousin Mabel was a pretty woman in her late twenties, a trifle faded already, but very dainty and luxurious-looking wrapped in her sables. She was of the same blond type as Joy, but her hair was already losing its brightness and her eyes were grey rather than the radiant blue that marked Joy’s greatest appeal. She was unvarnishedly pale, which made Joy conscious of the dab of rouge on her cheeks. As she stood exchanging amenities, Joy found herself contrasting Cousin Mabel’s style with Jerry’s. Jerry was always put together perfectly, with just the right amount of carelessness; but her style was the type that burst upon one. Mabel undoubtedly had style; but it was so quiet that one had to look many times to appreciate the small, perfect little details that made the unobtrusive whole.
“I have been trying to get you for so long, my dear,” she was saying. “But last night you were evidently making the most of being in New York; also this afternoon. Is it too late for you to run up to dine informally with us to-night? My big brother will be there, and my husband and one or two others.”
Joy stood with gracelessly opened mouth. Mabel’s big brother——
“I didn’t know I had more cousins that I hadn’t heard about,” she said heavily, thinking of no better way to bring back the subject.
“Oh, yes, there’s Phil! Older than I, and getting to be a more hard-and-fast bachelor every year. It’s even difficult to get him to dine with us, so you really must come to-night!” As Joy still hesitated, plunging for another setting to bring about what she wished, Mabel went on: “I know it’s awfully last minute-y, but it isn’t a dinner party, or anything but just an informal gathering—and as long as we are cousins——”