“Well, am I not the store?”
“No ma’am,” said he, hastily. “I can’t look at you in that light. I can’t think of you as a drug store.”
“I am sure I would make you a good and loving wife, Harvey. If Davis were alive he 221 could tell you how devoted I was to him in all the––”
“But that’s just the trouble, he isn’t alive!” cried poor Harvey, at his wits’ end. “Give me eight months.”
“In the meantime you will up and marry some one else. Half the girls in town are crazy—no, I won’t say that,” she made haste to interrupt herself, suddenly realising the tactlessness of the remark. “Come up to dinner next Sunday and we will talk it over again. It is the best drug store in Blakeville, Harvey; remember that.”
“I will remember it,” he said, blankly, and took his departure.
As he passed Simpson’s book store he dashed in and bought a New York dramatic paper. Hurriedly looking through the route list of companies, he found that the “Up in the Air” company was playing that week in Philadelphia. Without consulting his attorney he telegraphed to Nellie:—“Am in trouble. Uncle Peter is dead. Left me everything. Will you come back? Harvey.”
The next day he had a wire from Nellie, charges collect:—“If he left you everything, 222 why don’t you pay for telegrams when you send them? Nellie.”
He replied:—“I was not sure you were with the company, that’s why. Shall I come to Philadelphia? Harvey.”
Her answer:—“Not unless you are looking for more trouble. Nellie.”