"Perhaps you would like to see her in my room," said the girl. "I

could stay here with Mr. Hamilton."

Bones glared at the unconscious Hamilton.

"That is not necessary, dear old typewriter," he said stiffly. "Show

the young woman in, please."

The "young woman," came in. Rather, she tripped and undulated and

swayed from the outer office to the chair facing Bones, and Bones rose

solemnly to greet her.

Miss Marguerite Whitland, the beautiful Being, who had surveyed the

tripping and swaying and undulating with the same frank curiosity that

Cleopatra might have devoted to a performing seal, went into her office

and closed the door gently behind her.

"Sit down, sit down," said Bones. "And what can I do for you, young

miss?"

The girl smiled. It was one of those flashing smiles which make

susceptible men blink. Bones was susceptible. Never had he been gazed

upon with such kindness by a pair of such large, soft, brown eyes.

Never had cheeks dimpled so prettily and so pleasurably, and seldom had

Bones experienced such a sensation of warm embarrassment--not

unpleasant--as he did now.

"I am sure I am being an awful nuisance to you, Mr. Tibbetts," said the

lady. "You don't know my name, do you? Here is my card." She had it

ready in her hand, and put it in front of him. Bones waited a minute

or two while he adjusted his monocle, and read: "MISS BERTHA STEGG."

"Yes, yes," said Bones, who on such occasions as these, or on such

occasions as remotely resembled these, was accustomed to take on the

air and style of the strong, silent man. "What can we do for you, my

jolly old--Miss Stegg?"

"It's a charity," blurted the girl, and sat back to watch the effect of

her words. "Oh, I know what you business men are! You simply hate

people bothering you for subscriptions! And really, Mr. Tibbetts, if I

had to come to ask you for money, I would never have come at all. I

think it's so unfair for girls to pester busy men in their offices, at

the busiest time of the day, with requests for subscriptions."

Bones coughed. In truth, he had never been pestered, and was enjoying

the experience.

"No, this is something much more pleasant, from my point of view," said

the girl. "We are having a bazaar in West Kensington on behalf of the

Little Tots' Recreation Fund."

"A most excellent plan," said Bones firmly.

Hamilton, an interested audience, had occasion to marvel anew at the

amazing self-possession of his partner.

"It is one of the best institutions that I know," Bones went on

thoughtfully. "Of course, it's many years since I was a little tot,

but I can still sympathise with the jolly old totters, dear young miss."




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