"Caught, Dad!" he chuckled, looking at the card.
The millionaire glanced down and his face darkened.
"Tell her I cannot—" He stopped abruptly— Suppose she had heard that the boy was home! His father's room was the best place for him—and for her to see him! He sighed and laid down the card.
"Very well. Tell her to come in."
The young man watched her go, and laughed out and then chuckled softly; his father smiled grimly.
The door opened and the widow entered. She was dark, with a white throat and white hands and bewildering bits of jet that twinkled as she moved. They tinkled softly as she came in.
Aunt Jane, following discreetly, closed the door behind her and went to a table across the room.
The widow stood looking at the two men with a charming smile.
Julian came forward. "How do you do, Mrs. Cawein?" he was holding out his hand and smiling.
"How-de-do, Julie!" She touched the hand lightly and fluttered by him toward the chair in the window— "And how is the dear man!" she cried.