“Better leave a little note for him, telling him where we are. He might turn up.”
“I will,” said Carrie, who had not thought of it before.
“Tell him we’ll be at Sherry’s until eight o’clock. He knows, though I guess.”
Carrie crossed the hall with rustling skirts, and scrawled the note, gloves on. When she returned a newcomer was in the Vance flat.
“Mrs. Wheeler, let me introduce Mr. Ames, a cousin of mine,” said Mrs. Vance. “He’s going along with us, aren’t you, Bob?”
“I’m very glad to meet you,” said Ames, bowing politely to Carrie.
The latter caught in a glance the dimensions of a very stalwart figure. She also noticed that he was smooth-shaven, good looking, and young, but nothing more.
“Mr. Ames is just down in New York for a few days,” put in Vance, “and we’re trying to show him around a little.”
“Oh, are you?” said Carrie, taking another glance at the newcomer.
“Yes; I am just on here from Indianapolis for a week or so,” said young Ames, seating himself on the edge of a chair to wait while Mrs. Vance completed the last touches of her toilet.