He rose reluctantly, went upstairs to his room, and brought them down. He began on the electric company which was offering gold bonds at a price to net four and a half per cent. Then Nora came in to call him to the telephone.
“Who is it, Nora?”
“Miss Stuyvesant, sir.”
“Oh, yes.”
He hurried to the telephone.
“Good-morning, Frances.”
“Dad and Mother have gone to church and it’s very stupid here,” she complained. “Can’t you come over?”
He hesitated the fraction of a second.
“Oh, of course,––if you don’t want to,––” she began quickly.
“It isn’t that, Frances. Of course I want to come; only, there were some papers I brought home from the office––”