"Change the name!" Kaufmann was horrified.
"Well, nobody wants 'Old Tulu.' They want 'New Tulu' or 'Fresh Tasty Tulu.' At least, something to appeal to the imagination of Sadie-at-the-ribbon-counter."
"Oh!" observed Houghton. "And the name you suggest?"
"Well,—say something like 'Lulu Tulu.'"
"Gott!" Kaufmann struck the desk a blow with his fist. It was an insult to his father's memory.
Brainard rose. "I'm sorry," he said, "if I have offended. To save you any further bother, I'll just cut it out after Saturday. I—thank you for the chance"—he smiled a little ruefully—"the chance you have given me. Good day, gentlemen."
He turned on his heel and left the office.
***
As John Houghton was driven home that night, he became suddenly conscious that he would soon meet the apparition of the afternoon in the flesh. And though, of course, there was no need, he found himself rehearsing the justification of his position. "Lulu Tulu" indeed! Imagine the smile that would have illumined the faces at the club on such an announcement. The impudence of the boy to have suggested it to him—him who had so often held forth upon the value of conservatism in business! And he remembered with pride the speaker who had once said, "It is such solid vertebrae as Mr. Houghton that form the backbone of our business world." That speaker had been Bender, of the New York Dynamo Company. Poor Bender! The Western Electric Construction had got him after all.
This line of thought caused Houghton to reach in his pocket and produce a letter. He went over the significant part again.