“So far, so good,” he said, briefly. Then, after a moment’s meditation, he looked up sharply in the face of the young man, who was still standing: “Did you say anything about your terms?”
“Of course not. How could I? You don’t show price-lists like a storekeeper, in the law!”
Mr. Tenney smiled just a little at Horace’s haughty tone—a smile of furtive amusement. “It’s just as well,” he said. “I’ll talk with you about that later. The old lady’s rather close-fisted. We may make a point there—by sending in bills much smaller than old Clarke’s used to be. I ought to have told you about that. Luckily it wasn’t needed.”
The matter-of-fact way in which Mr. Tenney used this “we” grated disagreeably on the young man’s ear, suggesting as it did a new partnership uncomfortably vague in form; but he deemed it wise not to touch upon the subject. His next question, as to the identity of Judge Wendover, brought upon the stage, however, still a third partner in the shadowy firm to which he had committed himself.
“Oh, Wendover’s in with us. He’s all right,” replied Schuyler Tenney, lightly. “Never heard of him, eh? He’s the president of the Thessaly Manufacturing Company. You’ll hear a good deal about that later on.” The speaker showed his teeth again by a smiling movement of the lips at this assurance, and Horace somehow felt his uneasiness growing.
“She wants me to go to Florida to see Clarke, and talk things over,” he said.
“Just so. That’s important. We must consider all that very carefully before you go. Clarke requires handling. Leave that to me. I’ll think out what you are to tell him.”
Horace was momentarily shrinking in importance before his own mental vision; and, though he resented it, he could not but submit. “I suppose I’d better make some other excuse to Tracy about the Florida trip,” he said, almost deferentially; “what do you think?”
“Oh, you think so, do you?” Mr. Tenney was interested, and made a renewed scrutiny of the young man’s face. “Perhaps. I’ll think about it, and let you know to-morrow. Look in about this time, and don’t say anything till then. So long!”
Thus dismissed, Horace took his leave, and it was not until he had nearly reached his home that the thoughts chasing each other in his mind began to take on once more roseate hues and hopeful outlines.