“Just a minute, lady,” he said, “and I’ll bring Mr. Potash here.”

“But,” the lady protested, “I thought Mr. Lapidus was the gentleman who had charge of it.”

“That’s all right,” Morris said, “you just wait and I’ll bring Mr. Potash here.”

He took the stairs to the cutting-room three at a jump.  “Abe,” he cried, “Miss Aaronson is downstairs.”

Abe’s face, which wore a worried frown, grew darker still as he regarded his partner malevolently.  “What’s the matter with you, Mawruss?” he said.  “Can’t you remember a simple name like Atkinson?”

“Atkinson!” Morris cried.  “That’s it—­Atkinson.  I’ve been trying to remember it that name for four hours already.  But, anyhow, she’s downstairs, Abe.”

Abe rose from his task and made at once for the stairs, with Morris following at his heels.  In four strides he had reached the show-room, but no sooner had he crossed the threshold than he started back violently, thereby knocking the breath out of Morris, who was nearly precipitated to the floor.

“Morris,” he hissed, “who is that there lady?”

“Why,” Morris answered, “that’s Miss Aaronson—­I mean Atkinson—­ain’t it?”

“Atkinson!” Abe yelled.  “That ain’t Miss Atkinson.”

“Then who is she?” Morris asked.

“Who is she?” Abe repeated.  “That’s a fine question for you to ask me.  You take a lady for a fifteen-dollar oitermobile ride, and spend it as much more for lunch in her, and you don’t even know her name!”

A cold perspiration broke out on Morris and he fairly staggered into the show-room.  “Lady,” he croaked, “do me a favor and tell me what is your name, please.”

The lady laughed.  “Well, Mr. Perlmutter,” she said, “I’m sure this is most extraordinary.  Of course, there is such a thing as combining business and pleasure; but, as I told Mr. Tuchman when he insisted on taking me up to the Heatherbloom Inn, the Board of Trustees control the placing of the orders.  I have only a perfunctory duty to perform when I examine the finished clothing.”

“Board of Trustees!” Morris exclaimed.

“Yes, the Board of Trustees of the Home for Female Orphans of Veterans, at Oceanhurst, Long Island.  I am the superintendent—­Miss Taylor—­and I had an appointment at Lapidus & Elenbogen’s to inspect a thousand blue-serge suits.  Lapidus & Elenbogen were the successful bidders, you know.  And there was really no reason for Mr. Tuchman’s hospitality, since I had nothing whatever to do with their receiving the contract, nor could I possibly influence the placing of any future orders.”

Morris nodded slowly.  “So you ain’t Miss Atkinson, then, lady?” he said.

The lady laughed again.  “I’m very sorry if I’m the innocent recipient under false pretenses of a lunch and an automobile ride,” she said, rising.  “And you’ll excuse me if I must hurry away to keep my appointment at Lapidus & Elenbogen’s?  I have to catch a train back to Oceanhurst at five o’clock, too.”