"I am very sorry," repeated Jasper's father, "to have to say it, but my attention has been called to the fact, and I cannot now ignore it."
"Hardly by Jasper," remarked Mr. Marlowe, bringing the revolving chair so that he could see Jasper's face.
"Indeed, no," cried Jasper involuntarily, "it is something father has heard elsewhere, Mr. Marlowe, and I know he will feel quite differently when he comes to see things as they really are."
The grave look on Mr. Marlowe's face disappeared as he turned back to old Mr. King.
"Well," he said at last, as the other showed no sign of continuing the conversation, and still playing with the paper cutter on his desk.
"Permit me to say, sir," Mr. King broke out, finding to his astonishment it was not an easy matter to talk to this imperturbable man entrenched behind his own desk, "that I am disappointed in the atmosphere in which I find my son. It smells of trade, sir, too much to suit my fancy."
"Did you suppose for an instant, Mr. King," asked Mr. Marlowe, dropping the paper-cutter to pick up the pencil, "that our books came out ready for libraries, without any intervening process?"
"I certainly supposed Jasper was to be in charge of a literary department of the house, when I gave my consent to his coming here—" declared Mr. King very decidedly.
"Father!" exclaimed Jasper, unable longer to keep silent, "how could I take charge of any department, until I had learned it all myself?"
"You have been through Harvard," his father turned on him, "and it seems to me are fully competent to do the literary work required here."