"You were quite right in coming to me." For a moment he was
silent, plunged in thought. Finally he spoke with the
decisiveness characteristic of him. "Of course, there's nothing
we can do. Just put the stuff back on the counter, and let her
go."

But Smithson had not yet wholly unburdened himself. Instead of
immediately leaving the room in pursuance of the succinct
instructions given him, he again cleared his throat nervously,
and made known a further aggravating factor in the situation.

"She's very angry, Mr. Gilder," he announced, timidly.
"She--er--she demands an--er--an apology."

The owner of the store half-rose from his chair, then threw
himself back with an exclamation of disgust. He again ejaculated
the words with which he had greeted his son's unexpected kisses,
but now there was a vast difference in the intonation.

"God bless my soul!" he cried. From his expression, it was clear
that a pious aspiration was farthest from his thought. On the
contrary! Again, he fell silent, considering the situation which
Smithson had presented, and, as he reflected, his frown betrayed
the emotion natural enough under the circumstances. At last,
however, he mastered his irritation to some degree, and spoke his
command briefly. "Well, Smithson, apologize to her. It can't be
helped." Then his face lighted with a sardonic amusement. "And,
Smithson," he went on with a sort of elephantine playfulness, "I
shall take it as a personal favor if you will tactfully advise
the lady that the goods at Altman and Stern's are really even