"I'll explain that to him."
"You'll do nothing of the sort. I can't have my children interrupting busy men. Come along with me."
"I came to see Mr. Armstrong, and I'm going to see him," she retorted imperiously.
Her father changed his tactics like the veteran strategist that he was. "All right, all right. Come in. Only, we're not going to stay long.
"I don't want you," she said, laughing. "I want him to show me over the building."
"Lord bless my soul!" exclaimed Fosdick, winking at the three smiling secretaries. "And he the president! Did anybody ever hear the like!" And he took her by the arm and led her in, saying as they came, "This young lady, finding time heavy on her hands uptown, has come to get you to show her over the building."
Armstrong had risen to bow coldly. "I'm sorry, but I really haven't time to-day," said he formally.
Fosdick's brow reddened and his eyes flashed. He had not expected Armstrong to offer to act as his daughter's guide; but neither had he expected this tone from an employee. "Don't be so serious, young man," said he, roughness putting on the manner of good nature. "Take my daughter round and bring her to my office when you are through."
To give Armstrong time and the opportunity to extricate himself from the impossible position into which he had rushed, Amy said, "What grand, beautiful offices these are! No wonder the men prefer it downtown to the fussy, freaky houses the women get together uptown. I haven't been here since the building was opened. Papa made a great ceremony of that, and we all came—I was nine. Now, Mr. Armstrong, you can count up, if you're depraved enough, and know exactly how old I am."
Armstrong had taken up his hat. "Whenever you're ready, we'll start," said he, having concluded that it would be impossible to refuse without seeming ridiculous.