“Do you see any one you know, cousin Simon,” asked John.
“Yes,” said the book-keeper, “I see a particular friend of yours.”
“A particular friend of mine!” repeated John, puzzled. “Where?”
“Five rows in front of this. There, near the centre of the hall.”
“I don’t see any body I know.”
“It is Gilbert Greyson, your successor in our office.”
“It is he, I declare. He is talking to a pretty girl beside him.”
“That girl is the daughter of Mr. Vivian, the great importer.”
“You don’t say so. How on earth did he come to know her?”
“I can’t say,” answered Moore, coldly. “He is a very forward, pushing fellow. That may explain it.”