“I did not know his address.”
“Then you really haven’t heard of the little baby—why, it was born two—no, three years ago—and of Helen’s long ill-health, and of their taking a villa on the Riviera, and of how they hope to come home this spring?”
“No.”
“Yes. They will sail in June if Helen is well enough. I’m to be god-mother.”
“If you were Mr. D’Alloi’s chum, you must have known Ray Rivington,” said Dorothy.
“Yes. But I’ve not seen him since we graduated. He went out West.”
“He has just returned. Ranching is not to his taste.”
“Will you, if you see him, say that I’m in New York and should like to run across him?”
“I will. He and Laurence—my second brother—are old cronies, and he often drops in on us. I want you to know my brothers. They are both here this evening.”
“I have met the elder one, I suppose.”