But of course there was no need to explain further.  Jordan was a gentleman, and even if he had doubted Julius there was no doubting the expression in the eyes of the man to whom Julius now presented him.  Young Jordan knew a man of serious affairs when he saw one; unquestionably he saw one now.  He promptly offered seats in one of the cars.

Waldron expressed his regret that they should be obliged to force themselves upon a private party, and Jordan assured him that it would be a pleasure to serve them, although he said it with one more appraising glance at Julius.  He added that he would take them in his own car, that being the only one which had two seats to spare.  As Julius had noted this fact in the morning he was not surprised, only grateful that he had not had to scheme for this distribution of the company.

Jordan went to the desk and gave an order, then returned to his party upstairs.

Julius and Waldron retired to the porch.

Presently the party came trooping out, arrayed for the trip.  Dorothy in an enveloping white coat, her hat replaced by a particularly effective little rose-coloured bonnet of her own clever manufacture, found herself confronted upon the lantern-lighted porch, as she was about to step into the car, by her brother with a strange man at his elbow.

She looked straight up at him, as Julius presented him.  He looked straight down at her, and for an appreciable period of time the two pairs of eyes continued to dwell upon each other.  Until this extraordinarily thorough mutual survey was over neither said a word.  The rest of the party, diverting themselves with the usual laughter and badinage—­some of it of a recognizably sleepy character—­took their places, and only those nearest noted the addition to the list of passengers.  The other man and girl of Jordan’s car were an engaged pair, absorbed in each other, an astute reason for his selection of them to accompany himself and Dorothy.

The rear seat of the great car easily held four people.  Ashworth and Miss Vincent occupied two of the places; during the day Jordan and Dorothy had held the other two.  Ashworth had already handed in Miss Vincent.  The two chaperons of the party young Jordan had throughout the day thoughtfully bestowed in the other cars.

“Put my friend beside Sis, will you, Ridge?” suggested Julius in his host’s ear.  “They used to be old schoolmates and haven’t met for years.  He’s off to-morrow for a long stay.  It’s their only chance to talk over old times.”

Jordon nodded; there was nothing else to do.  He could joyfully have taken his friend Julius by the scruff of his neck and hurled him out into the night, if by some miracle he could suddenly have become that young man’s superior in strength.  But social training prevailed over natural brute instinct, and it was with entire politeness that he made this arrangement of his guests.

He then put Julius into the seat beside the chauffeur, and himself took one of the extra folding seats, swinging it about to half face those upon the rear seat.  In this manner he was nearly as close to Miss Dorothy Broughton as he would have been beside her—­nearly, but not quite!  To his notion there was all the difference in the world.