Indeed, Mr. Jameson James, an insistent formalist in his ideas for women though not at all in his ideas of men, had most unwisely essayed a veto upon Dee's attendance, only to be reminded by that untamed virgin that they were not yet engaged, and that, even if they were, it was by no means certain that she would meekly take orders from him. She spoke with unruffled good humour. Mr. James had departed in great ill humour.
"I like Jimmy when he's furious," remarked Dee. "He's so much more human."
"You'll lose him yet," warned Constance. "Who's your partner for the tennis?"
"Paul de Severin was to have been but he's held up in Washington. I thought I'd borrow Cary Scott if you don't mind."
"Why should I mind?" returned the other moodily. "He isn't my property."
"Had a scrap?"
"No." Constance brooded for a moment, then made one of those disclosures characteristic of the peculiarly frank relations existing between all three of the sisters. "Dee, Freddie's been borrowing money from Cary."
Dee whirled and stared. "The devil!" she ejaculated. "He'll never pay it back."
"I don't suppose Cary expects it back."
"What does he expect, then?"