“Why, there’s Sis now,” he said, “I can tell her laugh anywhere.”
As he rose from his chair, the door opened, and there entered a most comely young woman in automobile garb, noticeably younger than Trenton, but bearing an unmistakable likeness to him.
“Hello, Ned!” she cried. “I thought I’d find you here,” then seeing his visitor, who had risen, she paused.
“Lord Stranleigh,” said Trenton. “My sister, Mrs. Vanderveldt.”
“I am very glad to meet you, Lord Stranleigh,” she said, advancing from the door and shaking hands with him.
“Why didn’t you telephone?” asked her brother.
His sister laughed merrily.
“I came down like a wolf on the fold, didn’t I? Why didn’t I telephone? Strategy, my dear boy, strategy. This is a surprise attack, and I’d no wish that the garrison, forewarned, should escape. I am sure, Lord Stranleigh, that he has been descanting on the distraction of the woods and the camp, or perhaps the metropolitan dissipation of Philadelphia, depending on whether the yearning for sport, or his business in town was uppermost in his mind.”
“My dear Sis,” cried Ned with indignation, “that is a libellous statement. I never so much as mentioned Philadelphia, did I, Stranleigh? You can corroborate what I say.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” said Stranleigh, lightly. “Your attempt to drag me into your family differences at this point of the game is futile. I’m going to lie low, and say nothing, as Brer Rabbit did, until I learn which of you two is the real ruler of this house. I shall then boldly announce myself on the side of the leader. My position here is much too comfortable to be jeopardised by an injudicious partisanship.”