"That's all very well," began Mr. Goodchild, contemptuously, "but—"
"Exactly," said H. R. "I propose to transfer all our accounts to your bank. You know you said you'd like to have mine when I became famous."
"I know nothing about your companies, and care less. But I want to tell you right now—"
"What interest are you going to allow us on our balances?" cut in H. R.
"No interest!" said Mr. Goodchild in a voice that really meant "No Grace!"
H. R. turned to his sweetheart and, desiring to forestall desertion, took her hand in his and said to her:
"Grace, this house is a very nice house. You have spent many happy hours here. But it is, after all, only a house. And New York is New York!"
And Philadelphia was Philadelphia!
Grace's hand remained in H. R.'s.
"You can't have her!" said Mr. Goodchild, furiously.