yourself his friend."

"Me?" says I. "Well, there might be some trouble about that."

"I understand," says she. "It will be difficult, under the
circumstances. And Mortimer has such a proud, reserved nature! He has
always been that way. But now that he is thrown upon his own
resources, and if you could once gain his confidence, he might allow
you to--well, you'll try, won't you? And then I shall depend upon you
to send word to me once every week as to how he looks, if he seems
happy, how he is getting on in business, and so on. Come, do you
promise?"

"Is this a case of philanthropy, or what?" says I.

"Oh, I shall see that you are well repaid," says she.

"That listens well," says I; "but it's kind of vague. Any figures,
now?"

"Why--er--yes," says she, hesitatin'. "Suppose I should send you,
say, five dollars for every satisfactory report?"

"Then I'm on the job," says I.

And in two minutes more she's left me the address of her London
bankers, patted me condescendin' on the shoulder, and has flitted. So
here I am with a brand new side line,--an assignment to be friendly at
so much per. Can you beat that?