"That's the beauty of the whole business!" laughed his employer.

"An auto--all for ourselves!" exclaimed f.a.n.n.y, enthusiastically.

"Isn't that lovely?"

Her husband looked dubious. Doggedly he said:

"I don't know that we ought to accept presents from anybody now, not even from--Robert."

The Christian name dropped as gingerly out of his mouth as if it had been a hot potato. At last he had summoned up courage enough to do what it had long been his ambition to do--call his employer by his first name. He felt it would be a victory for him--a triumph over the other men at the office to be on such terms of intimacy. Besides it was his right. Wasn't he in the family?

Stafford turned quickly. There was a limit of endurance even to this clown's impudence.

"What's that?" he demanded curtly.

Not abashed and encouraged by the railroad promoter's previous good nature, Jimmie stood his ground and spoke up boldly:

"I said, I wasn't sure that we ought to accept presents even from you, Robert."

Quickly Stafford raised his hand. Coldly and distantly he said:

"Just a minute. To my wife I am--Robert. To my wife's sister I am--Robert. But to you I am--Mr. Stafford--even when I'm drunk."

Somewhat taken aback at this unexpected rebuff, the young man tried to bluff it out. Raising his voice, he protested:

"You call me Jimmie--you don't even call me James!"

"So I do," laughed the millionaire, who never remained in a bad humor long. It was beneath him to bandy words with his employee. The fellow was impertinent, but what of it? He simply did not know any better.

f.a.n.n.y, who had been an anxious observer of the little pa.s.sage at arms, spoke up. Turning to her husband, she said quickly:

"That's very different--"

"How?" demanded Jimmie, with an air of offended dignity.

"In every way," replied his wife, making dumb signs to him to desist.

But the clerk was not to be silenced so easily.

"I don't see it," he said doggedly.

The master of half a dozen railroad systems made a low bow to his employee. With mock courtesy he said:

"You're right! You're quite right! I have been entirely too familiar and I beg your pardon. From now on I shall be most careful to address you always as--Mr. Gillie."

Jimmie looked considerably crestfallen.

"You needn't rub it in," he said, shifting uneasily on his feet.

"No idea of such a thing," went on the millionaire in the same tone.

"Just one gentleman to another--'Mr. Stafford' and 'Mr. Gillie.'

That's perfectly fair." Turning towards his wife, who had apparently paid no attention to the discussion, he said: "Don't you think so, Virginia?"

"Yes," she answered shortly, without looking around.

Leaving the others, Stafford walked unsteadily over to where his wife was sitting. Bending over her, he exclaimed admiringly:

"My! You do look sweet to-night." Appealing to his clerk, he said: "Doesn't she? Doesn't she, Jimmie--James--I mean Mr. Gillie?"

"I think we had better say good-night," said the young man coldly.

"Yes, indeed," chimed in f.a.n.n.y, rising and making preparations to retire for the night.

"Must you really go?" said the millionaire in a regretful tone as if they would really confer a favor by disturbing still longer the privacy of himself and his wife.

The clerk looked hesitatingly at his employer, as if there was still something on his mind that was troubling him. Peevishly he said:

"Yes, it's late. I want to get to bed. It's nearly one o'clock and I've got to be at the office by nine It's different with you. You haven't got to be there unless you want to. That makes a difference."

"So it does," said the millionaire carelessly. Abruptly, as if he did not wish the conversation prolonged, he said: "Well, good night!"

"Good night," rejoined the other in a surly, dissatisfied tone.

Virginia rose and went towards her sister.

"Good night, dear," she said affectionately.

"Good night."

As she was going out f.a.n.n.y suddenly turned back. Running to her brother-in-law, she said:

"Thank you so much for the auto."

"That's all right!" he said with a good natured laugh, as if the giving away of automobiles was an incident of every day. "It's for the kid. Kiss her good-night for me, will you?"

"Indeed, I will!" exclaimed f.a.n.n.y gratefully. "Good night."

She followed Virginia out of the room and the two men stood looking at each other--Jimmie somewhat intimidated, Stafford with an amused expression on his face as if wondering what demand this extraordinary employee of his would make upon him next. There was an awkward pause.

Finally the clerk said:

"If I don't get a good eight hours' sleep my brain don't work right.

Would you mind if I was late an hour or so in the morning?"

"I wouldn't," replied Stafford dryly. "But McLaughlin might. He's the superintendent of your department and I never interfere with the superintendent."

"He'd be sure to call me down," snapped Jimmie sourly. "He's got it in for me and don't mind showing it. Some time I'll tell him what I think about him."

Stafford shook his head. Warningly he said:

"Don't you do it. If you do he might tell you what he really thinks about you. So take my advice and don't go out of your cla.s.s."