Helen wound up this diminutive tirade with quite a little flourish, and
Mr. Osgood looked thoughtfully across the table at her.
"Why don't you run down to New York?" he suggested. "I'm sure your
Aunt Mary Wardrop would be delighted to have you come for a visit."
"Yes. I thought of that. I should like to go there, and I had almost decided to. But can't you suggest something for me to do? Aunt Mary's principal occupation is abusing the nouveaux riches, and one merely has to agree with her, which is not at all difficult. If I had anything to do here, I'd rather stay than go. Of course New York is quite a change from Boston—there can be no doubt about that. But—don't you see what I mean, Uncle Silas?"
"I think I do—somewhat, my dear. You are a little restless, and you think that because the things you do are small they are less real. That is not so—small things can be made very interesting if one does them with enthusiasm. Take my own business, for example. It is possibly just a 'business' to you, like any other, but that is because you have not seen it from the inside. To me it is absolutely vital. I don't know of another business so interesting."
"Really!" the girl answered. "I thought it was just getting people to buy insurance policies, very much as you would have gotten them to buy sugar if you had been in the grocery business. If it's so interesting, why couldn't I come down to your office and learn about it? I'm sure I could be of some use—I'm quite quick at figures."
"I fear you'd be disappointed," said Mr. Osgood. "I'm afraid I must admit that adding up columns of figures is very much the same in one business as in another. And as I said, to find the real interest you should see a business from the inside. My office is not the inside—it's only part way in. The real inside, the center of the web, is the home office of some big company. I'm only a local agent, you understand; you would only see one phase of the business in my office. But if you went to New York, I could arrange that you might visit the home office of one of the New York companies, if you would like."
"I think I would," said Miss Maitland.
"Then I will give you a letter to Mr. James Wintermuth, one of my oldest and closest friends and the head of the Guardian Fire Insurance Company of New York. And some morning, if you find time hanging heavy on your hands, you can go down to William Street. And if you don't arrive before ten o'clock, I think Mr. Wintermuth will be pleased to show you something real—and something which has not a purple shadow in its possession."
"Then you really think it would be a good thing for me to go to New
York?" his niece asked.
"Decidedly. I'd write your aunt to-day, if I were you. Now that she has your portrait, she would probably like a chance to compare it with the original."