“I predict they’ll quit fighting as soon as they get hungry.  The Government is starving them out.  However, they’ve wound up our affairs for the time being, and—­” Mr. Carter carefully shifted the position of an ink-well, a calendar, and a paper-knife—­“that brings us to a consideration of your and my affairs, doesn’t it?  Ahem!  You remember our bargain?  I was to give you a chance and you were to make good before you—­er—­planned any—­er—­matrimonial foolishness with my daughter.”

“Yes, sir.”  O’Reilly felt that the moment had come for his carefully rehearsed speech, but, unhappily, he could not remember how the swan-song started.  He racked his brain for the opening words.

Mr. Carter, too, was unaccountably silent.  He opened his lips, then closed them.  Both men, after an awkward pause, cleared their throats in unison and eyed each other expectantly.  Another moment dragged past, then they chorused: 

“I have an unpleasant—­”

Each broke off at the echo of his own words.

“What’s that?” inquired the importer.

“N-nothing.  You were saying—­”

“I was thinking how lucky it is that you and Elsa waited.  Hm-m!  Very fortunate.”  Again Mr. Carter rearranged his desk fittings.  “She has deep feelings—­got a conscience, too.  Conscience is a fine thing in a woman—­so few of ’em have it.  We sometimes differ, Elsa and I, but when she sets her heart on a thing I see that she gets it, even if I think she oughtn’t to have it.  What’s the use of having children if you can’t spoil ’em, eh?” He looked up with a sort of resentful challenge, and when his listener appeared to agree with him he sighed with satisfaction.  “Early marriages are silly—­but she seems to think otherwise.  Maybe she’s right.  Anyhow, she’s licked me.  I’m done.  She wants to be married right away, before we go West.  That’s why I waited to see you at once.  You’re a sensible fellow, Johnnie—­no foolishness about you.  You won’t object, will you?  We men have to take our medicine.”

“It’s quite out of the question,” stammered the unhappy O’Reilly.

“Come, come!  It’s tough on you, I know, but—­” The fuse had begun to sputter.  Johnnie had a horrified vision of himself being dragged unwillingly to the altar.  “Elsa is going to have what she wants, if I have to break something.  If you’ll be sensible I’ll stand behind you like a father and teach you the business.  I’m getting old, and Ethelbert could never learn it.  Otherwise—­” The old man’s jaw set; his eyes began to gleam angrily.

“Who is—­Ethelbert?” faintly inquired O’Reilly.

“Why, dammit!  He’s the fellow I’ve been telling you about.  He’s not so bad as he sounds; he’s really a nice boy—­”

“Elsa is in love with another man?  Is that what you mean?”

“Good Lord, yes!  Don’t you understand English?  I didn’t think you’d take it so hard—­I was going to make a place for you here in the office, but of course if—­Say!  What the deuce ails you?”