“You had better go with us as far as the house, so that you can take one of our umbrellas. You can get in with Aunt Wess’ and me. There’s plenty of room. You can’t go home in this storm without an umbrella.”

Landry at first refused, haughtily. He might be too poor to parade a lot of hansom cabs around, but he was too proud, to say the least, to ride in ’em when someone else paid.

Page scolded him roundly. What next? The idea. He was not to be so completely silly. She didn’t propose to have the responsibility of his catching pneumonia just for the sake of a quibble.

“Some people,” she declared, “never seemed to be able to find out that they are grown up.”

“Very well,” he announced, “I’ll go if I can tip the driver a dollar.”

Page compressed her lips.