Carmella Commands
mustached man who sat at a desk near the entrance and told her that her father’s credit was not good.
“Not that he isn’t reliable,” the man hastened to add, “but he has not established a line of credit.”
“And what does that mean?” she had asked.
“Well, of course, he must put his whole account with us, and buy securities here,” said the mustache.
“Fine!” she answered. “Then Tommaso Coletta the contractor will keep right on banking with the Central Trust, where he has an account.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the mustache. “Does he bank with the Central? Then of course we should be glad⸺”
“Thanks! He’ll be glad to keep on doing it,” snapped Carmella.
She led her father out, telling him the bank was no good.
The memory of this interview blurred her attention to lessons. Twice Miss Silva asked questions, and twice forgave Carmella for not answering. Something that the teacher could not fathom was happening. Like a wise teacher, she yielded a few of the eternal verities to the vagaries of youth.
Carmella, in odd intervals of thought, wondered just how badly the building race in Greendale was going against her father, and why it was going that way. It kept her worried, in a way she did not know, that a person could be so plagued.
In reality it was a parental worry. In business mat-
[179]
