In his turn, Sam made a deprecatory gesture.
"Your credit," said Sam, "is good!"
That morning, after the walk in St. James's Park, when Sam returned with Polly to Claridge's, they encountered her father in the hall. Mindful of the affront of the night before, he greeted Sam only with a scowl.
"Senator," cried Sam happily, "you must be the first to hear the news! Polly and I are going into partnership. We are to be married."
This time Senator Seward did not trouble himself even to tell Sam he was an ass. He merely grinned cynically.
"Is that all your news?" he demanded with sarcasm.
"No," said Sam—"I am going into partnership with Baron Haussmann too!"
THE BURIED TREASURE OF COBRE
Young Everett at last was a minister plenipotentiary. In London as third secretary he had splashed around in the rain to find the ambassador's carriage. In Rome as a second secretary he had served as a clearing-house for the Embassy's visiting-cards; and in Madrid as first secretary he had acted as interpreter for a minister who, though valuable as a national chairman, had much to learn of even his own language. But although surrounded by all the wonders and delights of Europe, although he walked, talked, wined, and dined with statesmen and court beauties, Everett was not happy. He was never his own master. Always he answered the button pressed by the man higher up. Always over him loomed his chief; always, for his diligence and zeal, his chief received credit.