“Yes. Pretty slack, these days.”
“I suppose so, I suppose so,” responded Mr. Pryor, nodding. “Summer, I suppose it usually is. Well, I don’t know when I’ll be going out on the road again myself. Business is pretty slack all over the country this year.”
“Let’s see—I’ve forgotten,” said Madison ruminatively. “You travel, don’t you?”
“For a New York house,” affirmed Mr. Pryor. He did not, however, mention his “line.” “Yes-sir,” he added, merely as a decoration, and then said briskly: “I see you have a fine family, Mr. Madison; yes-sir, a fine family; I’ve passed here several times lately and I’ve noticed ’em: fine family. Let’s see, you’ve got four, haven’t you?”
“Three,” said Madison. “Two girls and a boy.”
“Well, sir, that’s mighty nice,” observed Mr. Pryor; “mighty nice! I only have my one daughter, and of course me living in New York when I’m at home, and her here, why, I don’t get to see much of her. You got both your daughters living with you, haven’t you?”
“Yes, right here at home.”
“Let’s see: neither of ’em’s married, I believe?”
“No; not yet.”
“Seems to me now,” said Pryor, taking off his glasses and wiping them, “seems to me I did hear somebody say one of ’em was going to be married engaged, maybe.”