Miss Fern smilingly acquiesced, saying that it was exactly what she would wish.
"And do you think there may be hope for it yet—that poor little manuscript?" she asked, as she stood by the door ready to take her departure.
"That is a question I can hardly answer," he replied. "I shall be better able to tell you in a week or two, I trust."
She lingered, with her hand on the door knob.
"My father is willing to take all the financial risks," she said. "That ought to make a difference, don't you think so?"
"It would, with many houses," he admitted. "I am glad to know these things. Thursday, then, Miss—Miss Fern."
He wanted to call her "Millicent," for he had read the name on the package he still held in his hand; but on the whole he concluded that this would be a little premature.