The doctor turned to him quickly:—
“Out with it, man; if you are master of a profession or a trade or a theory unknown to the rest of us, you are bound on your honor as a member of this unique organization to present it.”
At the same moment Mrs. Roberts came to his aid.
“Oh, Evan, teach us short-hand!”
Whereupon Mr. Roberts heaved what was intended to appear as a relieved sigh, and announced that his modesty was preserved.
Upon this suggestion they seized with eagerness; not one of them knew anything about phonetic writing save Mr. Roberts, and he was master of the art.
“It is the very thing!” the doctor said, with heartiness. “I should like exceedingly to learn it, and Ried and the ladies may be able to make it useful in a hundred ways; and as for the seven, if they really master it, it may be the foundation of a fortune for some of them.”
So, without more ado, it was planned that at the very next Monday evening the subject should be skilfully presented, its importance and its fascinations discussed, and the boys be beguiled into taking a first lesson, sandwiched in between the all-important reading and writing lessons.
Alas for plans! On the very next Monday the conspirators, with the exception of young Ried, were together by seven o'clock. The faint aroma of coffee floated through the room. A fruit-basket filled with oranges occupied a conspicuous table, and everything waited for the guests.
While they waited, instead of enjoying themselves as the four were certainly capable of doing, they were noticeably restless; listened for the shuffling of careless feet on the steps, and the sound of uncultured voices in the hall, and waited expectantly whenever the bell pealed, only to be obliged to send word to some caller that “Mr. and Mrs. Roberts were engaged.”