"More, if you wish."
"I begin to understand that Mr. Emerson is a lucky chap." He still smiled.
She ignored his meaning, and replied: "Boyd and I have been the closest of friends for many years."
"So I have been told," and he smiled at her again, in the same manner.
Somehow the smile annoyed her—it seemed to savor of self-confidence.
When he bade her good-bye an hour later he was still smiling.
Mr. Wayland was busy over some rare first edition, recently received from his English collector, when she sought him out in the library. He looked up to inquire:
"Has Willis gone?"
"Yes. He sent you his adieus by me." A moment later she added: "He asked me to marry him."
"Of course," nodded the magnate, "they all do that. What did you say?"
"What I always say."
"H'm!" He tapped his eyeglasses meditatively upon the bridge of his high-arched nose. "You might do worse. He suits me."