He hugged her once more, and she left the room as one whom business is driving. He looked at the record in his bank book and gave a low whistle.
When the rumor of Adèle’s new position reached Miss Frink, she did not have to assume approval in speaking to her secretary about it. The fact that the young woman was going to play to the young people of Farrandale from a distance, instead of standing toward them in the intimate relation of a teacher, was a distinct relief. She still felt that new kindness toward Grimshaw which came from the belief that he felt usurped, and, perceiving in him a champion of Adèle, she took pains to express herself pleasantly, as they sat together at their desks.
“I suppose the Koh-i-noor engagement will be a good arrangement for Adèle,” she said. “It comes as a surprise.”
“Yes. I don’t think she is fitted for the drudgery of teaching,” he returned.
“No one is who considers it drudgery,” declared Miss Frink. “When is the theater to open?”
“A week from to-night.”
“Well, they have secured a real musician.”
“Adèle will be glad to hear that she has your approval,” said Grimshaw. He took from his pocket an envelope. “Mr. Goldstein asked me to give you these tickets for the opening. He hopes you will honor him with your presence.”
Miss Frink took the offered envelope. Across it was written: “For the Queen of Farrandale.”
“You know I don’t go to the movies, Grim. Why didn’t you tell him so?”