"Don't you know the little girl?"
"Not in the least."
"Get the candy!" cried the child, petulantly.
"All right, I'll get you some candy, only don't call me papa," answered the real estate broker. And he slipped into a candy shop, and purchased some chocolates. He had just passed the confectionery over, when a middle-aged lady hurried up.
"Oh, mamma, see the candy papa bought me!" cried the little girl, gleefully.
"You shouldn't have bought her so much candy, Horace," said the lady to Mr. Garwell, severely. "Chocolates make Lulu sick."
Being thus addressed, John Garwell turned redder than ever.
"Excuse me, madam," he stammered. "I—er—this is a mistake. My name is not Horace."
"Not Horace. The idea!"
"My name is John—John Garwell, and I am from New York."