It was not until Henderson had time to take in the warmth of this domestic picture that Carmen rose.

“It is so good of you to come, with all your engagements.  Mamma is excused with a headache, but she has left me power of attorney to ask questions about our little venture.”

“I hope the attorney will not put me through a cross-examination.”

“That depends upon how you have been behaving, Mr. Henderson.  I’m not very cross yet.  Now, sit there so that I can look at you and see how honest you are.”

“Do you want me to put on my business or my evening expression?”

“Oh, the first, if you mean business.”

“Well, your stocks are going up.”

“That’s nice.  You are so lucky!  Everything goes up with you.  Do you know what they say of you.

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

“That everything you touch turns to gold.  That you will be one of the nabobs of New York in ten years.”

“That’s a startling destiny.”

“Isn’t it?  I don’t like it.”  The girl seemed very serious.  “I’d like you to be distinguished.  To be in the Cabinet.  To be minister—­go to England.  But one needs a great deal of money for that, to go as one ought to go.  What a career is open to a man in this country if he has money!”

“But I don’t care for politics.”

“Who does?  But position.  You can afford that if you have money enough.  Do you know, Mr. Henderson, I think you are dull.”

“Thank you.  I reckoned you’d find it out.”

“The other night at the Nestor ball a lady—­no, I won’t tell you who she is—­asked me if I knew who that man was across the room; such an air of distinction; might be the new British Minister.  You know, I almost blushed when I said I did know him.”

“Well?”

“You see what people expect of you.  When a man looks distinguished and is clever, and knows how to please if he likes, he cannot help having a career, unless he is afraid to take the chances.”

Henderson was not conscious of ever being wanting in this direction.  The picture conjured up by the ingenious girl was not unfamiliar to his mind, and he understood quite well the relation to it that Carmen had in her mind; but he did not take the lead offered.  Instead, he took refuge in the usual commonplace, and asked, “Wouldn’t you like to have been a man?”

“Heaven forbid!  I should be too wicked.  It is responsibility enough to be a woman.  I did not expect such a banality from you.  Do you think, Mr. Henderson, we had better sell?”

“Sell what?”

“Our stocks.  You are so occupied that I thought they might fall when you are up in the clouds somewhere.”

“No, I shall not forget.”

“Well, such things happen.  I might forget you if it were not for the stocks.”

“Then I shall keep the stocks, even if they fall.”

“And we should both fall together.  That would be some compensation.  Not much.  Going to smash with you would be something like going to church with Mr. Lyon.  It might have a steadying effect.”