CHAPTER VI
Dorothy went to the city on a Tuesday, in order to inspect some furniture that was being done over to suit her scheme of things, and also in order to do some early Christmas shopping. Armstrong knew nothing of her coming. When she dropped into the office about noon, she discovered that he was downtown on business and would not be back until later in the afternoon.
Jimmy Wren passed through the reception room, turned to her with a delighted greeting, and Dorothy at once commandeered him.
"Reese is somewhere downtown, and I want to take advantage of his absence to find him a Christmas present. You're a sensible young man, Jimmy, so I'll call on you for advice—if it'll not interfere. Can you get away to go shopping with me?"
"You bet!" exclaimed Wren heartily. "You've not lunched? Good. We'll get a bite to eat and then go sleuthing for something that'll make the old boy's eyes stand out when he lamps it Christmas morning. Eh? Fine! I'll be out in a second."
"If you're sure it won't interfere—"
"Not a bit of it! I wouldn't miss the chance for worlds—chance to spend your money, I mean—"
With a grin, Jimmy Wren rushed off for his hat and coat, and they went out together.
Dorothy liked Wren, liked his unspoiled enthusiasm; beneath his impulsive warmth there was a great fund of shrewdness and ability. None the less, he possessed a certain open ingenuousness of character, a wide-eyed confidence in people, as though his boyish illusions had never been shattered. In the office, Wren's whiplash keenness was all to the fore. Out of the office, he was himself—clean and frank and unafraid. Behind his black-rimmed spectacles, his gray eyes danced with energy and high humor. One liked Jimmy Wren at sight, and Jimmy either liked or disliked the other person with swift impulse.
They walked to the Biltmore, and were presently seated at a window-table à deux.