“Oh, yesterday! Don’t let us talk about yesterday. It’s to-day now, you know. You seem to be a mind-reader. Perhaps you could tell my occupation?”
“Certainly. Your occupation is doubtless that of a junior partner in a prosperous New York house. You go over to Europe every year—perhaps twice a year, to look after the interests of your business.”
“You think I am a sort of commercial traveller, then?”
“Well, practically, yes. The older members of the firm, I should imagine, are too comfortably situated, and care too little for the pleasures of foreign travel, to devote much of their time to it. So what foreign travel there is to be done falls on the shoulders of the younger partner. Am I correct?”
“Well, I don’t quite class myself as a commercial traveller, you know, but in the main you are—in fact, you are remarkably near right. I think you must be something of a mind-reader, as I said before, Miss Earle, or is it possible that I carry my business so plainly in my demeanour as all that?”
Miss Earle laughed. It was a very bright, pleasant, cheerful laugh.
“Still, I must correct you where you are wrong, for fear you become too conceited altogether about your powers of observation. I have not crossed the ocean as often as you seem to think. In the future I shall perhaps do so frequently. I am the junior partner, as you say, but have not been a partner long. In fact I am now on my first voyage in connection with the new partnership. Now, Miss Earle, let me try a guess at your occupation.”
“You are quite at liberty to guess at it.”
“But will you tell me if I guess correctly?”
“Yes. I have no desire to conceal it.”