“Waiter, did you hear my wife? What my wife says goes! Nothing’s too good for her!” Harry turned fiercely upon the waiter, jerking his cigar up and down in time to his words. The head waiter, all apologies, conducted them to a more centrally located table, and beckoned to a lesser menial, who helped install them. Jerry gave a bereft wail. “Where’s the flowers! We haven’t got no flowers! Look, Bill, at that table _there_ they got flowers!” Her fingers pointed firmly to an adjoining table, all eyes of which were already fixed upon them with that passionate interest that only Americans display in the affairs of others. “Now, Rosie, didn’t I tell you not to point at things with your fingers?” Harry admonished in a penetrating lower tone. “Well, a fork wasn’t handy; the man ain’t set the table yet,” Jerry responded. “Let us order,” interposed Steve in a suave, glossing-it-over tone, as the waiter thrust the menu before them. “Just rustle us the best tea on the premises, young feller,” said Harry to the waiter, with a wave of the hand. “With all the fixin’s; see?” Jerry interposed once more. “Say, Bill, I want a merring glass. Does that come with the tea?” “A meringue glacé,” said Steve smoothly to the by now distracted waiter. “What kind does madame prefer?” “Kind?” Jerry looked bewildered. “Is there different kinds? Can’t I just have a plain merring glass?” “A vanilla one, perhaps,” said Steve with a reassuring smile directed first at her and then at the waiter. Then, as the waiter fluttered away, leaving several around pouring water and adjusting the table, and others poised near by with their ears cocked, Steve leaned across the table, and addressed Harry in a loud, confidential tone: “Rather a pleasant idea of yours, Mr.—er—Billings, to combine business with afternoon tea.” “Well, I hope your girl and my wife get to be real good friends,” said Harry cordially. “I can remember when a million-dollar contract would ’a’ looked pretty big to me.” “It is practically certain, then, that we have underbid the—the Standard Oil Company on this?” Steve demanded. “Lemme tell you, young man, underbiddin’ don’t always mean you get a million-dollar contract. Not by a jugful!” “Bill, remember there is ladies present!” from Jerry. “Rosie, we’re talkin’ in business terms now, an’ you can chew on that piece of bread the waiter handed you, till we get through. Now lemme tell you, young man, the fact is, the underbiddin’ don’t cut so much ice as my private an’ personal opinions. I get hunches, that’s what I do; an’ hunches is what made Bill Billings what he is to-day, if I do say it.”