“I always knew I should like you,” said Fanny. “Of course, I haven’t seen much of you lately, but I hear of you from a very ardent admirer: John Eaton talks of you eloquently, and to interest John Eaton is a real achievement! I’m afraid I bore him to death!”
“I can’t believe it; he never lets himself be bored; but like everybody else, I’m never quite sure I understand him.”
“Oh, I tell him that’s one of his poses—baffling people. He surrounds himself with mystery, but pretends that he doesn’t. If he were a gossip he’d be horrible, for he knows everything about everybody—and knows it first!”
“He’s the kindest of mortals,” Nan observed. “He’s always doing nice things for people, but he has to do them in his own peculiar way.”
“Oh, John has the spirit of the true philanthropist; his right hand never knows, you know—”
“He’s a puzzle to the people he’s kindest to, sometimes, I imagine,” said Nan.
She laughed as she thought of Amidon, and Fanny appealed for illumination as to what amused her.
“Oh, I was thinking of his protégé—a young man named Amidon. He and I were kids together, back in my prehistoric days. He never had any advantages—if you can say that of a boy who’s born with a keen wit and a sense of humor. He does something at the Copeland-Farley store—went in as errand boy before papa left. They had him on the road for a while, but he’s in the office now. Mr. Eaton has taken a great shine to him and Jerry imitates him killingly. That fine abstracted air of Mr. Eaton’s he’s got nearly perfect; and he does the mysterious pretty well, too. But he’s most delicious when he forgets to Eatonize himself and is just natural. He’s quite short—which makes him all the funnier—and he wears tall, white-wing collars à la Eaton.”
“Tell me more!” said Fanny. “How old is the paragon?”
“About twenty-five, I should say, figuring with my own age as a basis. He looked like a big boy to me in my river days. Mr. Eaton has undertaken his social and mental rehabilitation and the effects are amazing. They came to the house together to call, and I’ve rarely been more entertained than by Jerry while his good angel was upstairs talking to papa. He’s trying to avoid any show of emotion just like his noble example, but once in a while he forgets himself and grins deliciously. After a round of high-brow talk, he drops into reminiscence and tells the most killing stories of the odd characters he’s met in his travels with the sample-case. It can’t be possible that Mr. Eaton hasn’t introduced him to you?”