“How are you, Marge?” said Tramlay. Phil afterward wondered that his host could smile so genially on so cold a person.
“As usual,” replied Marge, with a slight inclination of the head. “Good-morning, Mr. Hayn. Don’t let me interrupt conversation. I merely meant to say I’ve nothing to do this afternoon, and would be glad to show Mr. Hayn about town a little, if he likes.”
“That’s ever so good of you,” said Tramlay; “for the truth is, I was wondering how I could find time to do it myself, and fearing I couldn’t.”
“Entirely at his service,” said Marge, as lifelessly as an automaton.
“And both come and dine with me this evening,” suggested Tramlay: “entirely informal, you know.”
“I should be delighted,” said Marge, in his unvarying manner.
Tramlay hurried to his office, after the briefest of leave-takings, and Marge began to conduct Phil about New York. Soon, however, there developed a marked difference of taste between visitor and guide. Marge wanted to show the young man the Stock Exchange, which to the many minds composing a very large class has no rival attraction except the various institutions on Blackwell’s Island; Phil exhibited abject ignorance and indifference regarding the Stock Exchange, but wanted to go through the Sub-Treasury and Assay Office,—two buildings in which Marge had never been. Marge made a special trip to show the young man the outside of Jay Gould’s office, but Phil identified Trinity Church from pictures he had seen, and wanted to make a patriotic tour of the tombs of distinguished men of the Revolutionary period. Marge offered to introduce Phil to Russell Sage, but was amazed to learn that the young man had never heard of that distinguished individual. When, however, General Hancock, passing by, was casually pointed out by Marge, Phil stopped short and stared respectfully. Marge showed the Field Building, but through the trees in front Phil correctly surmised he saw Castle Garden, and desired at once to go there and be made acquainted with the method of receiving and distributing immigrants. On the Produce Exchange they fairly agreed, Marge admitting that in importance it ranked next to the Stock Exchange, while Phil was able to regard it as a great business necessity. Pretending to search, by Phil’s request, for the building in which Washington bade farewell to his generals, Marge succeeded in getting back through Broad Street to the vicinity of the Stock Exchange, where he tried to atone for his failure by pointing out through a window the head of Mr. Henry Clews; but Phil had no eyes except for the statue of Washington, standing, as he knew, on the site of the first President’s first inaugural. The two men exhibited equal interest, on half a dozen successive occasions, in “stock-tickers,” which Marge seemed to know how to find in all sorts of places; but, while Marge looked over the quotations on the tape, Phil studied the machinery of the indicator itself.
The strain upon Marge became almost too great for his self-control, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Trinity’s clock struck three. To have left the vicinity of the Stock Exchange earlier would never have occurred to him, but promptly on the stroke he hurried Phil to an elevated-railway station and uptown to a stable, where he had his horse and wagon brought out and took Phil for a drive in Central Park. Probably there he thought he could be entertained after his own manner, for he had the reins. Driving out Fifth Avenue, the two men really became congenial for a little while, for Phil understood horses, and Marge’s horse was a good one, and Phil admired him and knew of a good horse that would match him nicely, and Marge saw a prospect of making a team that he could sell at a large profit, and Phil promised to arrange that Marge should come out and see the horse. But even this conversation was broken when Marge pointed out the late residence of A. T. Stewart, for Phil insisted upon moralizing on riches. In the Park he asked questions about statues, and about trees and shrubs that were new to him and equally unknown to Marge, as well as utterly uninteresting; Phil also wanted a number of facts and figures about the Reservoir in the Park, and was with difficulty restrained from spoiling the drive by visiting the menagerie. Finally, when he demanded the exact sites of the various engagements on Manhattan Island between the British and Washington, after the latter had been forced to evacuate what then was New York, Marge abruptly turned and drove homeward, confessing without the faintest show of shame, but rather with defiance, that he knew absolutely nothing about those times. And when the drive ended and the couple separated, the elder man’s face broke from its customary calm as he muttered to himself,—
“What can Tramlay want of that fellow?”