They left the subway at Ninety-sixth Street and walked up theDrive. Jimmy, like every one else who saw it for the first time,experienced a slight shock at the sight of the Pett mansion, but,rallying, followed his uncle up the flagged path to the frontdoor.

　　"Your aunt will be in the drawing-room, I guess," said Mr. Pett,opening the door with his key.

　　Jimmy was looking round him appreciatively. Mr. Pett's housemight be an eyesore from without, but inside it had had thebenefit of the skill of the best interior decorator in New York.

　　"A man could be very happy in a house like this, if he didn'thave to poison his days with work," said Jimmy.

　　Mr. Pett looked alarmed.

　　"Don't go saying anything like that to your aunt!" he urged. "Shethinks you have come to settle down.""So I have. I'm going to settle down like a limpet. I hope Ishall be living in luxury on you twenty years from now. Is thisthe room?"Mr. Pett opened the drawing-room door. A small hairy objectsprang from a basket and stood yapping in the middle of the room.

　　This was Aida, Mrs. Pett's Pomeranian. Mr. Pett, avoiding theanimal coldly, for he disliked it, ushered Jimmy into the room.

　　"Here's Jimmy Crocker, Nesta."Jimmy was aware of a handsome woman of middle age, so like hisstep-mother that for an instant his self-possession left him andhe stammered.

　　"How--how do you do?"His demeanour made a favourable impression on Mrs. Pett. She tookit for the decent confusion of remorse.

　　"I was very surprised when your uncle telephoned me," she said.

　　"I had not the slightest idea that you were coming over. I amvery glad to see you.""Thank you.""This is your cousin, Ogden."Jimmy perceived a fat boy lying on a settee. He had not risen onJimmy's entrance, and he did not rise now. He did not even lowerthe book he was reading.

　　"Hello," he said.

　　Jimmy crossed over to the settee, and looked down on him. He hadgot over his momentary embarrassment, and, as usual with him, thereaction led to a fatal breeziness. He prodded Ogden in hiswell-covered ribs, producing a yelp of protest from thatastounded youth.

　　"So this is Ogden! Well, well, well! You don't grow up, Ogden,but you do grow out. What are you--a perfect sixty-six?"The favourable impression which Mrs. Pett had formed of hernephew waned. She was shocked by this disrespectful attitudetowards the child she worshipped.

　　"Please do not disturb Ogden, James," she said stiffly. "He isnot feeling very well to-day. His stomach is weak.""Been eating too much?" said Jimmy cheerfully.

　　"I was just the same at his age. What he wants is half rationsand plenty of exercise.""Say!" protested Ogden.