“It seems a most reasonable proposal,” said Mrs. Sartwell, with a sigh; “but my opinion is of no value, especially in my own house.”
“Oh, don’t say that, Mrs. Sartwell. I am sure every one must value your opinion most highly—every one who has the privilege of hearing it. I assure you I do. Now, what do you think, Miss Sartwell?”
The young man beamed on the girl in his most fascinating manner, but his charming facial expression was in a measure lost, for Edna was looking at the carpet, apparently perplexed.
“I think,” she said at last, “that father, who spends nearly all his time dealing with the men, must understand the situation better than we do. He has had a great deal of experience with them, and, as I know, has given much thought to the difficulty; so it seems to me our advice may not be of any real value to him.”
Barney could scarcely repress a long whistle. So this was how the land lay. This demure miss actually had an opinion of her own, and was plainly going to stand with her father against the field. Heretofore everybody had always agreed with Barney, excepting of course those rascally students, who were no respecters of persons, and more especially had all women agreed with him, therefore this little bit of opposition, so decorously expressed, had a new and refreshing flavour. The wind had shifted; he must trim his sails to suit the breeze.
“There, Miss Sartwell, you have touched the weak spot in our case. Just what I said to the mater. ‘Mr. Sartwell’s on the spot,’ said I, ‘and he ought to know.’ Almost your very words, Miss Sartwell.”
An ominous cloud rested on Mrs. Sartwell’s brow.
“Surely,” she said, severely, “the owners of a business should have something to say about the way it is to be conducted.”
“The tendency of modern times,” cried Barney, airily, waving his hand, “appears to be entirely in the opposite direction, my dear madam. It is getting to be that whoever has a say in a business, the owners shall have the least. And I am not sure but this is, to a certain extent, logical. I have often heard my father say that Mr. Sartwell was the real maker of the business. Why then should he be interfered with?” Edna looked up gratefully at the enthusiastic young man, for she not only liked the sentiments he was beginning to express, but she liked the manly ring in his voice. Barney had frequently found this tone to be very taking, especially with the young and inexperienced, and he knew that he appeared at his best when assuming it, if none of his carping comrades were present. He could even work himself up into a sturdy state of indignation, if his audience were sympathetic, and he were free from the blighting influence of pessimistic young men he met in Bohemia.
“And now, Miss Sartwell, I’ll tell you what I propose Have a talk with your father; then, if Mrs. Sartwell will allow me, I will call again, and I can judge from what you say whether it will be worth while troubling Mr. Sartwell with our advice. You see, we have all the same object in view—we wish to help Mr. Sartwell if we can. If we can’t, then there is no harm done. You see what I mean?”