Mr. Singer, Cis felt sure, was controlling a desire to laugh.
“No, indeed, but when a nice girl is getting fooled—”
“Now, Miss Adair, that will do. Let us avoid open allusions. Knowing you, I am inclined to think that you acted from a sort of mistaken chivalry; that you yielded to an impulse to save another girl from what you feared would be greater sorrow than you were inflicting upon her. You see, I give you full credit for good, even for rather fine motives, and I acknowledge that it is refreshing to find a girl with ideals such as this reveals. But it won’t do, Miss Adair, it won’t do! The telephone company is not in business to guard morals, nor its subscribers’ welfare; it is in business to transmit messages and to see that their privacy is secured to their subscribers. You have broken one of the fundamental, inviolable rules of your office, and there is nothing for me to do but dismiss you.” Mr. Singer ended with regret in his voice.
“Sure, Mr. Singer!” Cis agreed. “I knew it would come out, and I’d be thrown down. Sorry, but I’d do it right over again this minute.”
“I quite believe that!” Mr. Singer allowed himself a sound of laughter in his throat that did not pass his lips. “You have been a good operator, Miss Adair; quick, yet patient; faithful, punctual, and—until now—highly honorable. I’m exceedingly sorry to lose you, sorrier to dismiss you. I wish that you had not felt it necessary to load your gun and take a shot at birds, which were, after all, not in your field.”
“If you had a daughter, or a sister, a nice, a lovely girl, all innocent and—and well, white, Mr. Singer, wouldn’t you give her a chance to keep out of a regular sell, wouldn’t you put her wise and let her have her chance, at least? I bet you would, and I did!” cried Cicely.
Mr. Singer arose, holding out his hand in farewell, not otherwise replying to Cicely’s question.
“Good-bye, Miss Adair, and good luck. If I can be of use to you, let me know. But in your next position keep to your rules, and don’t let your imagination lead you into quixotic scrapes,” he said. “The cashier will give you your check. I’ll gladly recommend you to anyone whom you may send to me, but I cannot condone your disobedience here.”
“Of course not!” Cis heartily agreed. “Thanks, Mr. Singer. I knew I’d lose my head, so don’t feel sorry about it. You know red heads get through worse thickets than this one. You’ve been downright dandy to me; much obliged, honest! Good-bye; sorry to say it to you, but I’m glad about the rest of it.”
“We had a little difficulty in identifying the offender, but at last we did so, through one of the girls whose friend had been a witness to your imprudence,” said Mr. Singer, politely holding the door open for his unrepentant employee to leave him.