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Nevertheless, one of the results of Mrs. Vance’s suggestions was the fact that on this occasion Carrie was dressed somewhat to her own satisfaction. She had on her best, but there was comfort in the thought that if she must confine herself to a best, it was neat and fitting. She looked the well-groomed woman of twenty-one, and Mrs. Vance praised her, which brought colour to her plump cheeks and a noticeable brightness into her large eyes. It was threatening rain, and Mr. Vance, at his wife’s request, had called a coach. "Your husband isn’t coming?" suggested Mr. Vance, as he met Carrie in his little parlour. "No, he said he wouldn’t be home for dinner." "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. "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. "Well, I guess we’re ready now. The coach is outside." "Come on, people," said Mrs. Vance, coming in smiling. "Bob, you’ll have to look after Mrs. Wheeler." "I’ll try to," said Bob smiling, and edging closer to Carrie. "You won’t need much watching, will you?" he volunteered, in a sort of ingratiating and help-meout kind of way. "Not very, I hope," said Carrie. They descended the stairs, Mrs. Vance offering suggestions, and climbed into the open coach. "All right," said Vance, slamming the coach door, and the conveyance rolled away. "What is it we’re going to see?" asked Ames. "Sothern," said Vance, "in ‘Lord Chumley.’" "Oh, he is so good!" said Mrs. Vance. "He’s just the funniest man." "I notice the papers praise it," said Ames. "I haven’t any doubt," put in Vance, "but we’ll all enjoy it very much." |