"Why I?" asked Arthur again. He bent forward in his chair and fixed
his eyes on Estelle's. She looked up, met his gaze, and stammered.

"You--you do things," she finished lamely.

"I'm tempted to do something now," Arthur said. "Look here, Miss
Woodward, you've been in my employ for three or four months. In all
that time I've never had anything but the most impersonal comments
from you. Why the sudden change?"

The twinkle in his eyes robbed his words of any impertinence.

"Why, I really--I really suppose I never noticed you before,"
said Estelle.

"Please notice me hereafter," said Arthur. "I have been noticing
you. I've been doing practically nothing else."

Estelle flushed again. She tried to meet Arthur's eyes and
failed. She bit desperately into her pigeon drumstick, trying to
think of something to say.

"When we get back," went on Arthur meditatively, "I'll have nothing
to do--no work or anything. I'll be broke and out of a job."

Estelle shook her head emphatically. Arthur paid no attention.

"Estelle," he said, smiling, "would you like to be out of a job
with me?"