"Nevertheless it's him," replied the big fellow, in a positive tone of voice. "What reason have you to be jealous of that little simp?" laughed the secretary. "Well, he kept saying she wants this, and she wants that, and she wants one taken on the steps of the church, and one as they get into the automobile, and so on," replied Updyke. "Why did that disturb you?" "I found out who the _She_ was that he talked of so glibly." "Who was she?" persisted Mary Johnson. "Why--can't you guess, after all the hints I've made?" "No, I'm still in the dark." "He meant _you_, of course, and he seemed so familiar. Knew precisely what you wanted, and aired himself importantly," growled the big fellow. "But what had that to do with you, I wonder? You left the matter in my hands." "Quite so, my dear, and that's what makes me jealous. The fellow talked so much about you I feared there must be a strong attachment, or----" "Now that will be quite enough!" said Mary Johnson, as if offended. "I think it's time to----" "No, Mary don't do that. I'm in real deadly earnest about--you know what I mean--now don't you?" appealed the big fellow. "It begins to dawn on me. After this long conversation I feel that I have been unusually dense. Your moonlight ride all by yourself must have gone to your head," giggled the secretary. "Nevertheless I mean every word I have said, Mary. I want you--I must have you, Mary," said Updyke, a note of strong appeal in his voice. "I've known it a long time but I could not make myself believe that I had a chance. You are so young and pretty, and I am so old and ugly, and----" "Why you are not old at forty-one!" exclaimed Mary Johnson, forgetting that she was listening to an avowal. "And as for being ugly, I'd say that your rugged face denotes character, which is far more worthwhile than being good looking. But why do you tell me all this over the telephone? Weren't you brave enough to say it to my face?" "No, coward that I am--I just couldn't," sighed Updyke so loudly that Mary Johnson heard it over the wire. Then came a pause, a very long one, each expecting the next word to come from the other. Finally, the softly modulated voice of Mary Johnson came into the Updyke ear. "Why not call with your car to-morrow evening, then we can talk more freely," she suggested. "Am I never to ride in that big machine?" "I always knew you were the brains of the business, Mary. It's no wonder that----" "Don't say it over the wire," warned Mary. "I'd rather hear it more directly." "Then be ready at seven, my----" "Never mind--careful what you say--some one listening in," said she as both heard the guilty click of the switchboard. "Au revoir--I'll be ready at seven, but I will not go to the office to-morrow." "No--and when Miss Carew returns, you will come and go as you please," said he, as she answered "Good night." Then the big fellow hung up the receiver.