most intimate secrets, almost get the news before anything has really
occurred.

Miss Hallowell appeared, and very cold and reserved she looked as she
stood waiting.

"I sent for you because--" he began. He glanced at the door to make sure
that it was closed--"because I wanted to hear your voice." And he
laughed boyishly. He was in high good humor now.

"Why did you speak to me as you did when you came in?" said she.

There was certainly novelty in this direct attack, this equal to equal
criticism of his manners. He was not pleased with the novelty; but at
the same time he felt a lack of the courage to answer her as she
deserved, even if she was playing a clever game. "It isn't necessary
that the whole office should know our private business," said he.

She seemed astonished. "What private business?"

"Last night," said he, uncertain whether she was trifling with him or
was really the innocent she pretended to be. "If I were you, I'd not
speak as friendlily as you did this morning--not before people."

"Why?" inquired she, her sweet young face still more perplexed.

"This isn't a small town out West," explained he. "It's New York. People
misunderstand--or rather--" He gave her a laughing, mischievous
glance--"or rather--they don't."