Fanny glanced dolefully at Guy. Then her eyes turned toward her uncle. “It’s awful hard to get a job just now, isn’t it?” she asked, pathetically.
“Is it?” said Briggs, in a tone of surprise. “Do you know of anybody that wants one?”
“Yes, I do,” Fanny replied. “But he’s going to get it all right,” she added, with confidence.
Briggs extended both hands. “If there’s anything I can do—” he said, with a shrug of the shoulders.
“No. I guess you have trouble enough. Oh, yes, you can do something nice—you can let Guy take me out for a drive.”
“But I’ve got a lot of work this morning,” Guy protested, with a look in his face that revealed the spirit of the early martyrs.
Briggs had taken his seat at the desk and had begun to work again. “Never mind,” he said. “It’ll keep. The drive’ll do you good.”
Guy hesitated between pleasure and duty. “Oh, well,” he said, glancing from his employer to his employer’s niece.
“You come with us, auntie,” Fanny urged, with an air that made Guy’s coming inevitable.
“No, I mustn’t,” Helen replied, decidedly. “I have too much to do this morning.”