“But even so, she would be too shrewd to take the bait. An advertisement would merely put her on her guard. Mustn’t bell the cat, you know.”
“That’s one way of considering it. On the other hand—However, I simply offer the suggestion; you’re the pilot and can take whatever course you please.”
“Well, then, we’ll reserve our advertisement till other expedients have failed. The first thing to do is—” But Arthur stopped himself. He did not clearly know what the first thing to do was. “I’ll think about it,” he added.
“Good,” said Peixada, rising; “there’s nothing further for me to detain you with to-day.”
“Give my regards to mamma, when you write, Arthur,” said Mr. Mendel.
“I leave you my memoranda,” said Peixada, laying his note-book upon Arthur’s desk.
“Take care of yourself,” enjoined Mr. Rimo, smiling and waving his hand.
The three gentlemen filed out. Arthur remained seated in his arm-chair a long while after their departure, his eyes fixed upon the wall, his fingers busily twirling his mustache. For three years he had been enrolled among the members of the bar. This was the first case he had received that seemed really worthy of his talents.