FROM THE LIFE
Miller said, unnecessarily, "A charming girl."
"Exactly; and I have a private secretary named Pritchard. Know him?"
"I've seen him—when he came to the club for you."
"I've just found that there's practically an engagement between them. Without my consent or my knowledge. They're not even aware that I've heard of it yet."
Miller looked puzzled. Warren explained, apologetically, "I have to tell you this in order to account for what I'm going to ask you."
He had begun to walk up and down the room. Whenever he was "finessing" in an interview he moved about hi this way distractingly.
"The girl," he said, "has her mother's spirit; and if I oppose her I'm afraid I'll drive her into his arms. As a matter of fact, I'm not opposed to her marrying any honest young man—such as Pritchard seems to be—if it will make her happy. But Pritchard has no prospects. He's a clever stenographer and a trustworthy private secretary, and I suppose he aspires to promotion in the public service. I like him. I'd be glad to trust my daughter's future to him if his own future weren't so uncertain."
He turned abruptly. He said, with an almost pathetic paternal distress, "I need hardly say that—this is altogether confidential."
"Oh, surely, surely," Miller replied, embarrassed.
[ 110 ]
