"They never let me alone," he muttered; "they're always at me--following
me up as though I were a schoolboy. . . . Austin's the worst--never
satisfied. . . . What do I care for all these functions--sitting around
with the younger set and keeping the cradle of conversation rocking? I
won't go to that infernal baby-show!"

He entered the elevator and shot down to the great rotunda, still
scowling over his grievance. For he had made arrangements to join a
card-party at Julius Neergard's rooms that night, and he had no
intention of foregoing that pleasure just because his sister's first
grown-up dinner-party was fixed for the same date.

As for this man Selwyn, whom he had never met, he saw no reason why he
should drop business and scuttle uptown in order to welcome him. No
doubt he was a good fellow; no doubt he had behaved very decently in a
matter which, until a few moments before, he had heard little about. He
meant to be civil; he'd look up Selwyn when he had a chance, and ask him
to dine at the club. But this afternoon he couldn't do it; and, as for
the evening, he had made his arrangements, and he had no intention of
disturbing them on Austin's account.

When he reached his office he picked up the telephone and called up
Gerard's house; but neither his sister nor anybody else was there except
the children and servants, and Captain Selwyn had not yet called. So he
left no message, merely saying that he'd call up again. Which he forgot
to do.

* * * * *