"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.
"I guess you find New York quite a thing to see, don't you?" said Carrie, venturing something to avoid a possible deadly silence.
"It is rather large to get around in a week," answered Ames, pleasantly.
He was an exceedingly genial soul, this young man, and wholly free of affectation. It seemed to Carrie he was as yet only overcoming the last traces of the bashfulness of youth. He did not seem apt at conversation, but he had the merit of being well dressed and wholly courageous. Carrie felt as if it were not going to be hard to talk to him.
