"Would you like a little ball-pup. Miss Sparkes?" he pursued in a
conciliatory tone. "A lovely little button-ear? There's a new litter
say the word, and I'll bring you one."

"Thank you. I don't care for dogs."

"No? But I'm sure you would if you kept one. Now, I have a cobby
little fox terrier--just the dog for a lady. No? Or a sweet little
black-and-tan--just turning fifteen pounds, with a lovely neck and
kissing spots on both cheeks. I wouldn't offer her to everybody."

"Very good of you," replied Miss Sparkes contemptuously.

"Why ain't you goin' to business?" asked the landlady.

"I'll tell you. We had a little difference of opinion yesterday. The
governors have been disappointed about a new line in the fancy
leather; it wouldn't go, and I told them the reason, but that wasn't
good enough. They hinted that it was my fault. Of course, I said
nothing; I never do in such cases. But--this morning I had breakfast
in bed."

He spoke with eyes half closed and an odd vibration of the upper
lip, then broke into a laugh.

"You're an independent party, you are," said Mrs. Bubb, eyeing him
with admiration.

"It was always more than I could do to stand a hint of that kind.
Not so long ago I used to lose my temper, but I've taken pattern by