Rhodes. He dropped his glove that he might
stoop for it, and as he stooped he shot a rapid glance through the narrow
door of the other room. The girl still held her paper before her face,
but she sent a single look after the party athwart its side.
Truesdale stepped into the hall and pressed the button of the elevator.
"It's Sophie, true enough--not a bit of doubt about it. If she didn't
recognize me just now, she'll never have I another chance to--here."
He handed his charges into the elevator. "Well, what do you think of Jane
and her doings now?" he asked, briskly, as he stepped in after them. "Can
you think of any better opening for the investment of your idle funds?
Isn't she an able financier? Hasn't she got a great administrative
capacity? Isn't she one of the rising young men of the day?" As he flung
off this string of stock phrases from the newspapers, his eyes flashed
brightly, a mounting color came into his cheeks, and a triumphant smile
to his lips, and a caressing and ringing vibration into his voice. He
seemed to coruscate with all the conquering insolence of youth; Bertie
Patterson had never seen him quite so handsome.
"Down we go!" he cried to his aunt, as the cab resumed its course with a
sudden, breath-taking drop. "No; don't catch hold of me--I'm only a
broken reed. Yes; try the door-jamb--much more satisfactory. But look out
for your fingers--never get your fingers caught." Then, as they arrived
at the street level: "Wait a second; don't hurry.
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