“Gee!” he exclaimed, “I'm certainly glad that you put me on to the old boy's feelings. I think he'd have murdered me if he had come back and found me puffing a Pall Mall in there.”
She smiled. “He does hate them, doesn't he?” she said.
“Hate them! I should say he did. Hating cigarettes is about the only point where he and Issy get along without an argument. If a traveler for a hardware house comes into the office smoking a cig, Issy opens all the windows to let the smell out, and Grandfather opens the door to throw the salesman out. Well, not exactly to throw him out, of course, but he never buys a single cent's worth of a cigarette smoker.”
Helen glanced at him. “You must be awfully glad you're not a traveling salesman,” she said demurely.
Albert did not know exactly what to make of that remark. He, in his turn, looked at her, but she was grave and quite unconcerned.
“Why ought I to be glad I'm not a traveling salesman?”
“Oh, I don't know. It just seemed to me that you ought, that's all.”
“Well, if you were you wouldn't make a great hit with your grandfather, would you?”
“Eh? . . . Oh, you mean because I smoke. Say, YOU'RE not silly enough to be down on cigarettes the way grandfather is, are you?”
“No-o, I'm not down on them, especially. I'm not very well acquainted with them.”
“Neither is he. He never smoked one in his life. It's just country prejudice, that's all.”
“Well, I live in the country, too, you know.”
“Oh, because any one can see you are.” The manner in which this remark was made, a manner implying a wide knowledge of humanity and a hint of personal interest and discriminating appreciation, had been found quite effective by the precocious young gentleman uttering it. With variations to suit the case and the individual it had been pleasantly received by several of the Misses Bradshaw's pupils. He followed it with another equally tried and trustworthy.
“Say,” he added, “would YOU rather I didn't smoke?”
The obvious reply should have been, “Oh, would you stop if I asked you to?” But Helen Kendall was a most disconcerting girl. Instead of purring a pleased recognition of the implied flattery, she laughed merrily. The Speranza dignity was hurt.
“What is there to laugh at?” he demanded. “Are you laughing at me?”