older than that.

The young fellow was one of these big-boned, wide-shouldered chaps,
with a heavy, serious look to his face, almost dull. I couldn't tell
at first look whether he was a live wire or not. No such suspicions
about the girl. She ain't what you'd call a queen, exactly. She's too
tall and her face is too long for that. Kind of a cute sort of face,
though, with rather a wide mouth that she can twist into a weird,
one-sided smile. But after one look at them lively blue eyes you knew
she wasn't walkin' in her sleep. It's my cue, though, to let 'em guess
what nuisances they were.

"May I see Mr. Ellins?" says the young chap.

"Cards," says I.

He produces the pasteboards.

"Oh, yes!" I goes on. "The wards, eh? Marjorie Chandler, Dudley
Winthrop Chandler. Well, you've picked out a busy day, you know."

"Oh, have we?" says Marjorie. "There, Dud! I was afraid we might.
Perhaps we'd better not call, after all."

"Good!" says Dudley. "I didn't want to, anyway. We can just send in
our cards and leave word that we----"

"Ah, can it!" says I. "Mr. Ellins is expectin' you; only he ain't a
man you can walk in on casual."