“Thank you,” said Fanny, with a little courtesy.

“Oh, I guess we’ll be all right,” said Jimmie airily.

Dropping into the easy chair near the table, the clerk helped himself uninvited to another cigar.  Stafford took another seat near him, while Virginia and her sister continued to find pleasure in examining some of the art treasures scattered all about them.

“May I ask when the wedding takes place?” inquired the host after a pause.

Withdrawing the perfecto from his lips.  Jimmie threw back his head and blew a ring of smoke up to the ceiling.

“That depends,” he replied carelessly, “on how—­a—­a—­business venture of mine turns out.”

Now at close range, Stafford scrutinized his guest more narrowly.  Quickly he took note of his ill-fitting clothes, cheap tie, frayed linen and shabby shoes.  He hardly looked the kind of man likely to be burdened with heavy business responsibilities.  Nodding sympathetically, so as to encourage confidence, he said: 

“I see.  What business are you in, Mr. Gillie?”

“I’m a shipping clerk.”

“Then you are not in business for yourself?”

“No—­that is, not now—­though I hope to be some day.  You see, I have ambitions.”

The millionaire nodded approvingly.

“That’s right.  Every young man should be ambitious.”

“I want to do something big,” went on his vis-a-vis confidently.  “I have the ability.  All I need is the chance to prove it.”

“H’m,” said Stafford, with a slight tinge of scepticism in his voice.  “In what direction do you think your talents lie, Mr. Gillie?”

“Finance!  Organization!” exclaimed the clerk enthusiastically.  “I’ve got ideas, too!  For instance, Mr. Stafford, did you ever stop to think of the money there would be in a Chewing Gum Trust?”

“No, I must confess I never did,” laughed his host.

“Well—­there’s big money in it,” said Jimmie confidently.  “I’ve figured it all out.  I’d like to tell you about another scheme of mine, which is going to revolutionize railroading in this country—­cut down train time one-half.  I told the girls about it; they think it’s great!”

Stafford nodded.

“Yes—­Miss Virginia mentioned it to me.  You must tell me what it is some day.”

Inflating his chest, Jimmie sat back in his chair and puffed more vigorously at his cigar.  Decidedly he was getting on.  Here he was discussing business opportunities with one of the biggest men in New York.  Carelessly he added:  “I’ve got lots of other good ideas, too, but I suppose I’ll never be able to work ’em out.  What chance has a shipping clerk got?”

Stafford looked at his interlocutor for a moment without speaking.  Then suddenly and emphatically, he said: 

“Mr. Gillie, the business world is actually hunting to-day for men big enough to hold big positions.  I don’t mean mere fifty-thousand-dollar men.  I mean hundred-thousand-dollar men.  There is a better chance now for the really big man than there ever was.”