“That’s so—that’s so; it’s ‘Devlin’ of course. Well, Mrs. Devlin, you surely look as though marriage agreed with you.”
They were all laughing in good spirits. A few moments of inconsequential remarks, and then Allister withdrew while Mr. Corey made Jeannette sit down.
“Oh, I must have a talk,” he insisted, “and hear all about you.”
The door opened, and young Tommy Livingston came in with a question on his lips. His eyes lighted as he recognized the caller.
“My new secretary,” said Corey smiling.
“Oh, is that so?” Jeannette was pleased; the boy had always been a protégé of hers. “Well, Tommy, this is a step up for you!”
“Yes, indeed,” he said grinning. “I’m doing the best I know how....”
“Tommy does very well,” approved Mr. Corey.
“I didn’t know you understood dictation,” said Jeannette.
“I don’t very well. I’ve got a stenographer in my office,—’member Miss Bates?—and I’m going to night school and learning shorthand; I can run a machine fairly decently now.”