“Whitely’s been trying to go it alone on his editorials, and the papers have all been laughing at him,” chuckled Mr. Blodgett. “Just read us your famous one, Whitely,—that one about The Tendency of Modern Art, with the original Hebrew from Solomon you put in.”
I saw my employer redden, and in pity for his embarrassment I said, “I do not think I shall ever come back to the office, Mr. Whitely.”
“Why not?” he exclaimed. “You committed an unwise action, but business is business, and I see no cause why we need let a single mistake terminate a relation mutually profitable.”
“I have learned the lesson that one cannot sell one’s honesty without wronging other people, and I shall never do it again.”
“This is purely sentimental”—he began.
Mr. Blodgett, however, interrupted by saying, “Now don’t go to exciting the doctor, for he’s to sleep on the trip. Besides, I’ve got something in mind better than the job he’s had under you, Whitely. Come and have a smoke, and leave him to nap a bit.”
They left me, and I set to puzzling over many questions: how you would greet me at My Fancy; how you would welcome Mr. Whitely; what was the meaning of his friendliness towards me; and what new kindness Mr. Blodgett had in store for me. Finally I fell asleep, to be awakened only when we reached our destination.
Agnes met us at the station, and at the house Mrs. Blodgett gave me the warmest of welcomes, but not till I came downstairs before dinner did you and I meet. Your greeting was formal, yet courteous and gracious as of old, almost making me question if our last two interviews could be realities.
Before the dinner was finished Mrs. Blodgett ordered me to the divan on the veranda, and sent dessert and fruit out to me. You all joined me when the moment came for coffee and cigars; but the evening was cloudy and rather breezy, and presently Mrs. Blodgett said it was too cold for her, and suggested a game of whist indoors. “You must stay out here,” she told me, “but if you feel cool be sure to use the shawl.”
You turned and said to Mr. Whitely, “You will play, I hope?” and he assented so eagerly that it was all I could do to keep from laughing outright when you continued, “Agnes and Mr. Whitely will make your table, Mrs. Blodgett, so I will stay here and watch the clouds.” The whole thing was so palpably with an object that I felt at once that you wished to see me alone, to learn if I had anything more to say concerning Mr. Whitely; and as I realized this, I braced myself for the coming ordeal.