"They didn't some years ago when there were no shops on Fifth Avenue and gentlemen wore side-whiskers," said Hamil, smiling.
Shiela Cardross shrugged. "I'm sorry; I was inclined to like her. She misses more than I do because we are a jolly and amusing family. It's curious how much energy is wasted disliking people. Who is Miss Suydam?"
"She's a sort of a relative. I have always known her. I'm sorry she was rude. She is sometimes."
They said no more about her or about his aunt; and presently they moved on again, luncheon being imminent.
"You will like my sister, Mrs. Carrick," said Shiela tranquilly. "You know her husband, Acton, don't you? He's at Miami fishing."
"Oh, yes; I've met him at the club. He's very agreeable."
"He is jolly. And Jessie—Mrs. Carrick—is the best fun in the world. And you are sure to like my little sister Cecile; every man adores her, and you'll do it, too—yes, I mean sentimentally—until she laughs you out of it."
"Like yourself, Calypso, I'm not inclined to sentiment," he said.
"You can't help it with Cecile. Wait! Then there are others to lunch with us—Marjorie Staines—very popular with men, and Stephanie Anan—you studied with her uncle, Winslow Anan, didn't you?"
"Yes, indeed!" he exclaimed warmly, "but how did you—"