"Well!" breathed Diana, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "did you ever before see a man of that kind?"
Silvette turned to Edgerton. "What do you think of him, cousin?"
"Why, I rather like that dried-up little chip," he said. "He's about the grade of citizen we expected."
"We?" repeated Diana meaningly; "do you expect to go with us?"
"Are you going to force me out of this perfectly good combination, Diana?"
The girl sat silent on the bed's edge regarding him, but not answering.
"There's one thing which ought to be settled now," observed Silvette; "if our cousin, Mr. Edgerton, is to remain in this firm, we've got to call him Jim, if only for appearance' sake. Otherwise people would chatter."
"Jim?" repeated Diana; "very well, it doesn't embarrass me to call him Jim—or Tom or Bill, for that matter," she added indifferently.
"It doesn't worry me, either," said Edgerton; "call me anything but early."
"Such a poor joke!" said Silvette; "if we ever call you, cousin, it will be a very late affair—and with nothing under a full house."