"You positively must stay down and dine with us, and go home by moonlight," Mrs. Saunders, a lively young matron with a large country house close by, insisted. "Jimmy's neglected me terribly these last few months, and as for you, Pamela, I haven't seen you for a year."
"I'd love to if we can," Pamela assured her, "but Jimmy will have to telephone first."
"Then do be quick about it," Mrs. Saunders begged, "It doesn't matter a bit about clothes. We've twenty people staying in the house now, and half of us won't change, if that makes you more comfortable. Jimmy, if you fail at that telephone I'll never forgive you."
But Van Teyl, who had caught the little motion of his sister's head towards the city, proved equal to the occasion. He returned presently, driving the car.
"Got to go," he announced as he made his farewells. "Can't be helped,
Pamela. Frightfully sorry, Mrs. Saunders, we are wanted up in New
York."
Pamela sighed.
"I was so afraid of it," she regretted as she waved her adieux. . . . .
An hour or so later the city broke before them in murky waves. Pamela, who had been leaning back in the car, deep in thought, sat up.
"You are a perfect dear, James," she said. "Do you think you could stand having Mr. Fischer to dinner one evening this week?"
"Sure!" he replied, a little curiously. "If you want to keep friends with him for any reason, I don't bear him any ill-will."