The Daughter of a Magnate | Page 7

it.
He knew from experience that stenographers were hard to hold at
Medicine Bend. They usually came out for their health and left at the
slightest symptoms of improvement. He worried as to whether he might
possibly have been unlucky enough to draw another invalid. And at the
very moment he had determined he would not lose his new assistant if
good treatment would keep her he saw a trainman far down the gloomy
hall pointing a finger in his direction saw a young lady coming toward
him and realized he ought to have taken time that morning to get
shaved.
There was nothing to do but make the best of it; dismissing his
embarrassment he rose to greet the newcomer. His first reflection was
that he had not drawn an invalid, for he had never seen a fresher face in
his life, and her bearing had the confidence of health itself.
"I heard you had been here," he said reassuringly as the young lady
hesitated at his door.
"Pardon me?"
"I heard you had been here," he repeated with deference.
"I wish to send a despatch," she replied with an odd intonation. Her
reply seemed so at vari ance with his greeting that a chill tempered his
enthusiasm. Could they possibly have sent him a deaf stenographer?
one worn in the exacting service at headquarters? There was always a
fly somewhere in his ointment, and so capable and engaging a young
lady seemed really too good to be true. He saw the message blank in
her hand. "Let me take it," he suggested, and added, raising his voice,
"It shall go at once." The young lady gave him the message and sitting
down at his desk he pressed an electric call. Whatever her mis fortunes
she enlisted his sympathy instantly, and as no one had ever accused
him of having a weak voice he determined he would make the best of
the situation. "Be seated, please," he said. She looked at him curiously.
"Pray, be seated," he repeated more firmly.
"I desire only to pay for my telegram."

"Not at all. It isn't necessary. Just be seated!"
In some bewilderment she sat down on the edge of the chair beside
which she stood.
"We are cramped for room at present in the construction department,"
he went on, affixing his frank to the telegram. "Here, Gloomy, rush this,
my boy," said he to the messenger, who came through a door
connecting with the operator's room. "But we have the promise of more
space soon," he resumed, addressing the young lady hopefully. "I have
had your desk placed there to give you the benefit of the south light."
The stenographer studied the superintendent of construction with some
surprise. His determination to provide for her comfort was most
apparent and his apologies for his crowded quarters were so sincere that
they could not but appeal to a stranger. Her expression changed. Glover
felt that he ought to ask her to take off her hat, but could not for his life.
The frankness of her eyes was rather too confusing to support very
much of at once, and he busied himself at sorting the blue prints on his
table, guiltily aware that she was alive to his unshaven condition. He
endeavored to lead the conversation. "We have excellent prospects of a
new headquarters building." As he spoke he looked up. Her eyes were
certainly extraordinary. Could she be laughing at him? The prospect of
a new building had been, it was true, a joke for many years and
evidently she put no more confidence in the statement than he did
himself. "Of course, you are aware," he continued to bolster his
assertion, "that the road has been bought by an immensely rich lot of
Pittsburg duffers--"
The stenographer half rose in her chair. "Will it not be possible for me
to pay for my message at once?" she asked somewhat peremptorily.
"I have already franked it."
"But I did not--"
"Don't mention it. All I will ask in return is that you will help me get
some letters out of the way to-day," returned Glover, laying a pencil

and note-book on the desk before her. "The other work may go till
to-morrow. By the way, have you found a boarding-place?"
"A boarding-place?"
"I understand you were looking for one."
"I have one."
"The first letter is to Mr. Bucks I fancy you know his address " She did
not begin with alacrity. Their eyes met, and in hers there was a queerish
expression.
"I'm not at all sure I ought to undertake this," she said rapidly and with
a touch of disdainful mischief.
"Give yourself no uneasiness " he began.
"It is you I fear who are giving yourself un easiness," she interrupted.
"No, I