"Oh, isn't that settled yet?"
"No; I'm expecting to be called up any minute with a message that will send me out there."
"Oh, Harry! That's terrible! When you go to Chicago you never get back for a whole week."
"If you like me so much, why don't you marry me and go with me on all my trips?"
"Conceited!" she began, but her face fell again as the telephone bell sounded. Harry answered it, and after a few rapid questions turned to Pauline.
"That's what it is," he said; "I go tomorrow. I must see Owen," and rang the bell.
"Owen," Pauline exclaimed upon his entrance, "Harry must go to Chicago tomorrow. Isn't it dreadful?"
"I am very sorry. But I hope it will not be for long."
"No," said Harry, curtly. "Look over these papers."
An hour later Owen drew from his typewriter this letter: