"I hope I am wrong," she answered, "but something unexpected must have happened to change Mr. Hilliard's attitude. What could it be except pressure from higher sources?"
"Has he dropped any hint before you?"
"Not a hint. He wouldn't let go of anything. Why, he is too close-fisted to drop his r's."
"So I am told. He belongs to that anomalous class who are as rigid in business methods as they are loose in private morals."
"Indeed!" Cherry seemed curious.
"But inasmuch as his extravagance begins at 10 P.M. and ends at 10 A.M., it doesn't seem to affect his social standing. However, we needn't discuss his personal character; there's enough to think of without that. Will you take dinner with me this evening, so that we can talk over any further developments?"
"I am to dine with Mr. Hilliard," said the girl.
"Oh!" Boyd's tone of disappointment seemed disproportionate to the
occasion. He endeavored to disguise his feeling by saying, lightly:
"You are breaking into exclusive circles. He lives in quite a palace,
I'm told."
"I—I'm not dining at his home." Cherry hesitated, and Boyd flashed a sharp glance at her. A faint color flushed her cheeks, as she explained: "He could not see me at the office to-day, so he arranged for me to take dinner with him."
"I see." Boyd detected a note hitherto strange in his own voice. "I am going to try the Tacoma banks to-morrow. Would you like to run over with me in the morning. The Sound trip is beautiful."