That was the second time--not counting distant glimpses in crowded
avenues, in the Park, at Sherry's, or across the hazy glitter of
thronged theatres. But the third encounter was different.
It was all a mistake, born of the haste of a heedless and elderly
matron, celebrated for managing to do the wrong thing, but who had been
excessively nice to him that winter, and whose position in Manhattan was
not to be assailed.
"Dear Captain Selwyn," she wheezed over the telephone, "I'm short one
man; and we dine at eight and it's that now. _Could_ you help me? It's
the rich and yellow, this time, but you won't mind, will you?"
Selwyn, standing at the lower telephone in the hall, asked her to hold
the wire a moment, and glanced up at his sister who was descending the
stairs with Eileen, dinner having at that instant been announced.
"Mrs. T. West Minster--flying signals of distress," he said, carefully
covering the transmitter as he spoke; "man overboard, and will I kindly
take a turn at the wheel?"
"What a shame!" said Eileen; "you are going to spoil the first home
dinner we have had together in weeks!"
"Tell her to get some yellow pup!" growled Austin, from above.
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