"Are you Raggles?" he asked politely.

"You poor man!" she cried, aghast. "Raggles is Edith's French poodle.
Has no one told you of the poodle?" She half whispered this. He began to
adore her at that very moment,--a circumstance well worth remembering.

"No one has told me of _you_, for that matter," he apologised,
thrilling with a delight such as he had never known before. "Would you
mind whispering to me just who you are? Am I supposed to be your
father--or what?"

"It is all so delightfully casual, isn't it?" she said. "I daresay they
forgot to tell you that you are a man of family. Didn't they mention me
in any way at all?" She pouted very prettily.

"No, they ignored you and Raggles and Tootles. Are there any more in my
family that I haven't met?"

"You see, we got to the station quite a bit ahead of Edith. That's how
you happened to miss meeting us. We saw you there, however. I recognised
you by your clothes. You seemed very unhappy. Oh, I forgot. You wanted
to know who I am. Well, I am your sister-in-law." She ordered coffee and
toast while he sat there figuring it out. When the waiter departed, he
leaned forward and said quite frankly,--

"You'll pardon me, I'm sure, but I can't understand how I was so
short-sighted as to marry your sister."

"Well, you see, you didn't catch a glimpse of me until after you were
married," she railed. "I was in the Sacred Heart convent, you remember."