“It’s just splendid!” cried Constance. “I couldn’t have found a better place no matter how long I tried. I’m so much obliged to you, Mr. Porter.”
“Better wait until you see how it pans out—the booth, not the candy. I can speak for the panning of that,” laughed Mr. Porter, then added: “Well, that is step No. 1 taken. Now for No. 2, and that is stocking up. Have you thought about that?”
“Yes, I’ve thought. My goodness! I’ve thought until my wits are fairly muddled with thinking, but that is the part that bothers me most. I can make the candy easily enough after school hours, and I can manage to send it here, but I’m dreadfully afraid I haven’t as much capital on hand as I ought to have to get all the boxes I need. They are very expensive I find. I wrote to two firms who make them, but it seems to me they charged me dreadful prices. Perhaps they suspected from my letter that I wasn’t much of a business woman,” confessed Constance, looking frankly into the friendly eyes.
Mr. Porter laughed in spite of himself, then sobering down again asked:
“Have you time to come back to my office? I would like to make a proposition to you.”
“Why yes, Mr. Porter, I have time enough,” hesitated Constance. “But I am afraid I am taking a good deal more of yours than I ought to.”
“Am I not working in the interests of the owner of this building? I’m trying to secure a new tenant for him. What more could I do?”
“I don’t believe their income will be materially increased by this tenant,” answered Constance much amused at the thought.
“Every one counts, you know. But now to business.”
Entering his office with a brisk air, he again motioned Constance to the chair by his desk, and asked: