“But you were interested enough to help him. I wonder why?”
“Because,” answered the scout-master seriously, “I think you are too fine a girl to waste her life on such a fellow as that man is. I believe you could make something worth while of your life.”
“What?” demanded Queenie eagerly. “That’s just what I want to talk about. You know I quit my old job, to come here with Miss Wilkinson.”
“What do you think you would like to do?” he inquired.
“I don’t know yet. But not sell stockings at a basement counter.”
“Would you like to study stenography?”
“I don’t think so. Clara Abrams is doin’ that—don’t let on to Miss Wilkinson, for she’s plannin’ to surprise her when she lands her first job—but it doesn’t look good to me. I’d like to do somethin’ with people. I’m awful sociable.”
“Yet you don’t like selling?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, I’d like to think about it, if you are willing to take me on as an advisor. I can keep my eyes open and try to hunt up something for you.”