“Oh, I see,” murmured Betty, who was in a teasing mood. “You want me to introduce you to the very prettiest pretty girls.”
“Prexy can do that,” Jim told her calmly. “He’s my firm friend since I stood by him so nobly in the war of the ploshkin. But I do hope you’ll be here. We could have some bully walks and rides, Betty—you ride, don’t you?”
Betty nodded. “But I shall be dreadfully busy—if I come.”
“I’ll help you work,” Jim offered gallantly. “I understand this secretary proposition pretty well. I was secretary to the O. M.—Old Man, that stands for, otherwise the august head of our firm—until they put me on this little job. I could give you pointers, I’m sure, though it’s not exactly the same sort of thing you’re up against. And I say, Betty, Eleanor has half promised me to come on this fall while I’m here. I’m sure she’ll do it if you’re here too.”
“That would be splendid,” Betty admitted, “only of course I couldn’t decide to come just for a lark, Jim. I mustn’t let that part of it influence me a bit.”
“Well, just the same”—Jim played his last and highest card,—“if you want to be a real philanthropist, Miss Betty Wales, you’ll let me influence you a little. If ever there was a good object for charity, it’s a fellow who hasn’t seen any of his family for nine months and has had to give up a paltry two weeks’ vacation that he’d been counting the hours to, to hold down a job that may, in a dozen years or so, lead to something good. It takes stick, I can tell you, Betty, this making your way in the world, and sometimes it’s a pretty lonesome proposition. But I don’t intend to be just dad’s good-for-nothing son all my life, so I’m bound to keep at it. I hate a quitter just as much as dad does. I can tell you, though, it helps to have a good friend around to talk things over with.”
Betty’s brown eyes grew big and soft, and her voice vibrated with sympathy. “Don’t I know that, Jim? Last year when Madeline and Babbie were both away at once it seemed as if things always went wrong at the Tally-ho, and I used to nearly die, worrying. And when they came back and we talked everything over, there was usually nothing much the matter.”
“Exactly,” agreed Jim. “So don’t forget me when you’re footing up the philanthropic activities that you can amuse yourself with if you decide on a Harding winter.”
Betty laughed. “I won’t,” she promised gaily, “although you don’t look a bit like an object of charity, Jim.”
“Appearances are frequently deceitful,” Jim assured her.