Cis heartily shook the worn hand which this peculiar, but sterling woman held out to her. She resented her suspicions of Rodney, yet in spite of them, she liked her cordially, and left her with a surprising warmth for her in her own heart, and a pity that recognized the tragedy which Miss Gallatin’s brief allusion to her own perfidious lover revealed.
Cis walked on thoughtfully for a short distance after leaving Miss Gallatin, her thoughts grave, almost somber. It was gloomy to know that once this woman had been young like her, full to overflowing with the joy which now filled Cicely, joy which had congealed under the cruellest ice, the cold of disappointment and disillusionment. But the perfidy of that older lover did not involve the perfidy of Rodney. Rodney! The word “perfidy” was an absurdity in connection with his name! Cis threw off her depression, squared her shoulders like a boy, and broke into a swinging pace, softly whistling: “But I never knew, dear,” the song which she had hummed replying to Miss Gallatin. This time, casting aside her dignity as Mr. Lucas’ private secretary, Cis whistled aloud in the street, albeit softly.
There were piles of letters waiting upon her desk when Cis sat down to it, letters in ordinary long-hand and typed letters, but the majority of them written in the code peculiar to that office and to the secrets of its clients and associates.
Cis plunged into them, reading and assorting into piles letters relating to legal affairs, cases in which Lucas and Henderson, as a firm, were retained; letters relating to Mr. Lucas’ personal clients, people who retained him as advisor in their affairs, rather as a wise man of sterling integrity than as a lawyer; letters of appeal, or asking information; last of all, letters in the code relating to the matter of the pending franchise; reporting its progress in the three states dealing with it, and with Congress; the likelihood of the bill passing which would make it possible; suggestions of means which would further its success. The mail relating to the franchise, as well as his personal correspondence, Cis laid upon Mr. Lucas’ desk; he would not come in before eleven, or possibly noon that day, having first gone to the bank to conduct that part of its business which fell upon him as its president.
Then Cis plunged into correspondence from yesterday’s notes, which she must write up and dispatch. She was immersed in this when Mr. Lucas entered.
“Good morning, Miss Adair,” he said and passed her to take up the papers which she had laid down, awaiting him.
He read rapidly, putting aside a few letters for a second reading, but he merely glanced through the letters which were not written in the code, stacking them for a return to them later on; evidently the one absorbing, pressing matter of that day was the franchise, soon to be decided.
“Miss Adair, you know a great deal that the outside world is eager to learn,” said Mr. Lucas, looking over at Cis as she busily wrote at her desk, a short distance from his own. “There are many people’s hopes hanging upon this pending franchise; many waiting to snatch up the shares of the new enterprise, to get them at the lowest possible figure. What would they not give to know now that the franchise is secured? They could buy to-day at 32¼, and sell within two months at fifty per cent above par! A profit not to be despised! And within a year that profit will at least double. The newspapers are agog for inside information, for a tip as to the probabilities of the outcome, partly to secure a scoop over other papers, partly to serve political ends. What do you purpose doing with your knowledge, Miss Adair? Sell out to the highest bidder? Offer your knowledge, say, to a New York paper, and make it do something handsome for you, in return for the advantage you offer it?”
Mr. Lucas spoke with a smile that showed that he considered Cicely far beyond the reach of temptation thus to betray confidence. His face also expressed great satisfaction, even relief. As the president of a national bank, it might prove unpleasant for him if the failure of the franchise disclosed him deeply concerned in its success. Mr. Lucas was playing with Cis and the fancy of her betraying him, under the necessity for some outlet for the satisfaction which his face revealed.
Cis looked up and smiled.