As he had been out late the night before, he was not in a very agreeable mood. He had sent for his tailor some time before, and he supposed it was the tailor who had knocked and entered at his command.
"Well, here you are at last!" Tom growled. "I've waited long enough for you, too! You are slower that molasses in midwinter! I suppose you want to know what ails me now. Well, I'll tell you. That last pair of trousers you made me are too short in the waist and too full around the bottoms—that's what's the matter. I'd be mobbed if I should show myself in them. Now, don't tell me they are all right! I'll
just try them on right before you, and let you see—— Great Jupiter! What have I been saying!"
He had turned his head, and he saw a vision that electrified him and brought his feet down from the table with a thump.
Just within the room a very pretty girl was standing, and she was staring at him in a half-frightened, half-amused manner.
"I—I—I beg your pup-pup-pardon!" stammered Thornton, jumping up, confused and flustered. "I didn't know! I—I thought it was my tailor!"
"And you nearly frightened the senses out of me by growling at me in that way," giggled the girl. "Why, I thought you were a great horrid bear, and you were going to eat me."
"If I were a bear, I couldn't ask for a daintier meal," said Tom, gallantly.
"Oh, my!" laughed the girl. "What a difference!"
"I am bound to even matters if possible."