conversation.

"You'll get the jolt of your life when you come to Paris and
find that you're expected to pay for the lunches, and all
the cab fares, and everything, of those shrimpy little
commissionaires. Polite little fellows, they are, in
frock coats, and mustaches, and they just stand aside, as
courtly as you please, while you pay for everything. Their
house expects it. I almost passed away, the first time, but
you get used to it. Say, imagine one of our traveling men
letting you pay for his lunch and taxi."

She rattled on, genially. Heyl listened with unfeigned
delight. Ella found herself suddenly abashed before those
clear, far-seeing eyes. "You think I'm a gabby old girl,
don't you?"

"I think you're a wonderful woman," said Heyl. "Very wise,
and very kind."

"Why--thanks," faltered Ella. "Why--thanks."

They said their good-bys. Ella hugged Fanny warm-heartedly.
Then she turned away, awkwardly. Heyl put his two hands on
Fanny's shoulders and looked down at her. For a breathless
second she thought he was about to kiss her. She was amazed
to find herself hoping that he would. But he didn't.
"Good-by," he said, simply. And took her hand in his steel
grip a moment, and dropped it. And turned away. A
messenger boy, very much out of breath, came running up to