“I think I can manage it somehow, Lilian; and I feel almost sure that we shall go.”
“O, I am so glad!”
“But, Lilian, you must not tell a single soul where you are going, or, indeed, that you are going at all.”
“Not tell any one! Why not?” she asked, as if it would be a great hardship to deprive herself of the pleasure of telling her friends that she was going to Paris.
“I will tell you why, Lilian. It is difficult and dangerous business. I am not sure of the position yet. Suppose I should go to New York, and then, after I had thrown up my situation in the bank, find that the firm who made the partial offer did not want me? I should have lost my present place without having obtained another.”
“That’s very true. I understand you, perfectly.”
“If I find in New York that I can have the position, it will be time enough for me to resign my place in the bank. If I am disappointed, I have only to return to my present place. If it should get to the ears of Mr. Bristlebach that I am doing anything of this kind, he might fill my place in my absence—don’t you see?”
“I do; it is plain enough.”
“You can tell your mother that you are going away to-morrow night, and that possibly I may accept a position in New Orleans.”
“In New Orleans?”