On approaching the Fordyce residence he noticed a number of motors and carriages driving up to the door, and thinking some entertainment was going on, he promptly turned his car about and made for his cousin’s house in Thirteenth Street. Madame Yvonett would probably be able to give him news of Janet. On his arrival, to his great disgust, he found the Quakeress with a room full of callers, and it was fully an hour before they departed and he had her to himself.
“Draw up thy chair, Thomas,” directed Madame Yvonett. “Where has thee been keeping thyself since Christmas?”
“Mostly at Myer. I’ve called you up on the telephone, Cousin Yvonett, several times to ask how you were.”
“So Rebekah has told me, and I appreciate the trouble thee has taken. Will thee let me refill thy cup?”
“No more, thank you,” setting down his empty teacup. “How is Marjorie?”
“Very busy just now; thee sees the season is in full swing, and she has little opportunity to come in, but I talk with her every day on the telephone.”
“Have you seen Janet Fordyce recently,” with elaborate carelessness, helping himself to a pretzel.
“She was here but yesterday, and inquired particularly——” Madame Yvonett stopped speaking as Minerva pulled back the hall portière and Representative J. Calhoun-Cooper walked into the room.
“I fear you do not recall me, Madame Yvonett,” he said, as the Quakeress rose. “I am John Cooper, and I had the pleasure of calling upon you and your husband with my father years ago in Paris.”
“Thee does my memory an injustice, Friend Cooper,” exclaimed Madame Yvonett cordially. “I have a very agreeable recollection of thy father and thyself. But I admit thee has changed somewhat in appearance since those days. Does thee know my cousin, Thomas Nichols?”