The plumber’s son, Willy Steen, came over from the corner saloon to see what was going on, and Annie introduced him at the doorstep.
Mrs. Wooley asked Wanning to come into the parlor and invited him to have a chair of ceremony between the folding bed and the piano.
Annie, nervous and tearful, escaped to the dining-room—the cheerful spot where the daughters visited with each other and with their friends. The parlor was a masked sleeping chamber and store room.
The plumber’s son sat down on the sofa beside Mrs. Wooley, as if he were accustomed to share in the family councils. Mrs. Wooley waited expectant and kindly. She looked the sensible, hard-working woman that she was, and one could see she hadn’t lived all her life on Eighth Avenue without learning a great deal.
Wanning explained to her that he was writing a book which he wanted to finish during the summer months when business was not so heavy. He was ill and could not work regularly. His secretary would have to take his dictation when he felt able to give it; must, in short, be a sort of companion to him. He would like to feel that she could go out in his car with him, or even to the theater, when he felt like it. It might have been better if he had engaged a young man for this work, but since he had begun it with Annie, he would like to keep her if her mother was willing.
Mrs. Wooley watched him with friendly, searching eyes. She glanced at Willy Steen, who, wise in such distinctions, had decided that there was nothing shady about Annie’s boss. He nodded his sanction.
“I don’t want my girl to conduct herself in any such way as will prejudice her, Mr. Wanning,” she said thoughtfully. “If you’ve got daughters, you know how that is. You’ve been liberal with Annie, and it’s a good position for her. It’s right she should go to business every day, and I want her to do her work right, but I like to have her home after working hours. I always think a young girl’s time is her own after business hours, and I try not to burden them when they come home. I’m willing she should do your work as suits you, if it’s her wish; but I don’t like to press her. The good times she misses now, it’s not you nor me, sir, that can make them up to her. These young things has their feelings.”
“Oh, I don’t want to press her, either,” Wanning said hastily. “I simply want to know that you understand the situation. I’ve made her a little present in my will as a recognition that she is doing more for me than she is paid for.”
“That’s something above me, sir. We’ll hope there won’t be no question of wills for many years yet,” Mrs. Wooley spoke heartily. “I’m glad if my girl can be of any use to you, just so she don’t prejudice herself.”
The plumber’s son rose as if the interview were over.