“You probably know more about the Jordans than I do,” she said. “I have a picture of Janet that she sent me a couple of years ago. We always exchange presents at Christmas—but we’ve never seen each other.”
“I really know very little about the Jordans, myself,” protested Howard. “You see, Janet and I saw each other for the first time just five weeks ago. It was on a Sunday afternoon, I’d been taking a walk in Central Park, when one of those equinoctial downpours came on very suddenly. Janet was right ahead of me, so naturally, I offered her my umbrella. She’s—well, rather shy and retiring, and at first she wasn’t so keen on accepting—”
“So there is a difference between the cousins!” Bill winked at Howard. “If it had been Dorothy, she’d have taken your overcoat and rubbers as well. Nothing shy or retiring about Janet’s double!”
“Is that so, Mr. Smarty! It’s a good thing Howard met her that rainy Sunday. If it had been you, Bill, the poor girl would certainly have got a soaking!”
“You mean she wouldn’t have accepted my umbrella?”
“I mean you never would have offered it!”
“You win—one up, Dorothy,” said Ashton Sanborn when the laughter at this sally had subsided. “What happened after you and Janet got under your umbrella, Bright?”
“Oh, nothing much. We walked over to Central Park West but there were no taxis to be had for love or money. So then I suggested taking her home and we found we lived in the same apartment house. I asked if I might call, but she said that was impossible—that Mr. Jordan permitted no callers.”
“Well,” said Dorothy, “that didn’t seem to stop you. I mean you are a pretty fast worker, Howard, to get engaged with a tyrant father guarding the doorstep and all that.”
“Cut it out, Dot,” broke in Bill, who had been waiting patiently for a chance to get even. “You can’t be in the center of the stage all the time, and your remarks are out of order, anyway.”