"Oh, that's not at all the sort I want," protested Georgie, laughing and blushing. "I mean a real business partner, a fellow-sweeperess and house-arranger and ball-supper-manageress!"
"Wretched girl, how horribly practical you are! I wish I could see you discontented and sentimental just for once!"
"Heaven forbid! That would be a pretty state of things! Now good-by. I have about half a ton of roses to arrange for Mrs. Lauriston."
"Oh,—for her dance! Georgie," coaxingly, "why not go for once with me? Come, just this once. There's that white dress of mine from Pingat, with the Point de Venie sleeves, that would exactly fit you."
"Nonsense!" replied Georgie, briefly. She kissed her friend and hurried away.
"I declare," soliloquized Mrs. St. John, looking after her, "I could find it in my heart to advertise for some one to come and rescue Georgie Talcott from all this hard work! What nice old times those were when you had only to get up a tournament and blow a trumpet or two, and have true knights flock in from all points of the compass in aid of distressed damsels! I wish such things were in fashion now; I would buy a trumpet this very day, I vow, and have a tournament next week."
Georgie's true knight, as it happened, was to come from a quarter little suspected by Mrs. St. John. For the spare afternoons of this second winter Georgie had reserved rather a large piece of work, which had the advantage that it could be taken up at will and laid down when convenient. This was the cataloguing of a valuable library belonging to Mr. Constant Carrington. That gentleman had observed Georgie rather closely as she went about her various avocations, and had formed so high an opinion of what he was pleased to term her "executive ability," that he made a high bid for her services in preference to those of any one else.
Recognizing an old friend, she jumped up, exclaiming, "Why Bob—Mr. Curtis—how do you do?"—[Page 49].
She was sitting in this library one rainy day in January, beside a big packing-case, with a long row of books on the table, which she was dusting, classifying, and noting on the list in her lap, when the door opened and a tall young man came in. Georgie glanced at him vaguely, as at a stranger; then recognizing an old friend, she jumped up, exclaiming, "Why Bob—Mr. Curtis,—how do you do? I had no idea that you were here."