“But who after that?” “_Sit tight, Dicky._” ... He coughed. “It isn’t like the desk in the old sense. We have talked about that. Pidge, I’m wabbling a bit, but the desk is yours.” They were sitting in the windy front seats. She appeared to be looking into the back of the motor-man’s neck. “When you get back,” he added. Her eyes did not move. “This isn’t reward, this is your place; no other can hold down the job. You’ve done it for months. There wouldn’t have been any _Public Square_, if you hadn’t. I know all about the ‘Nearer, My God, to Thee’ story, and the editorial paragraphs and how you have kept up the reviews, and somehow got stories without money and without price. John Higgins told me everything. It isn’t giving you reward. It is only going on as you were, with some money to work with, and two or three good men to help, and a salary for yourself that will make up in a small way for the pittance you’ve been living on for years.” “There mustn’t be any desk, Dicky,” she said queerly. “What do you mean?” “I mean we’d be the laughing stock of New York, if I perched on a desk, calling myself the Editor.” She halted, thinking of what Miss Claes had advised about her authorship of _The Lance of the Rivernais_. “You’ll take it, Pidge?” he said with deadly calm. “I’ll do what I can until you come back. It must be managed very silently. No announcements. I’ll be there as I was. I’ve been thinking a lot. _The Public Square_--I know how dear it is to you, Dicky. It is to me, too. It will be wonderful to have some money to work with. I know about Bothwell. He’s the right man for the advertising.” “I left it open--for you to choose the one to help you when Bert Ames goes over to Washington.” Her eyes turned to him directly now, searchingly. There seemed to be something intelligible for him in them, but he did not divine the meaning. “That’ll all work out,” she said presently. “We mustn’t try to plan it all now.” Her eyes filled with laughter. “Oh, Dicky,” she said, “if I’d ever get self-conscious about feeling all the responsibilities of _The Public Square_ resting upon my shoulders--I’d muddle the whole business in a day!” “They have rested on your shoulders, Pidge.” “Yes, but I didn’t stop to think.... In another minute you’ll be able to see the ocean!” They were silent. Then she pointed over the motor-man’s shoulder, and he saw a vast stretch of leveled azure, like sky ironed out smooth. “And--you’re--going--across!” she said suddenly--“still after the Big Story that you’ve always been looking for. And oh, Dicky, I’ll go to see them when you’re gone--your mother and aunt and sister.” “It did a lot for me to learn that you had called.” “Dicky,” she said solemnly, “when they told me what you’d done in Paris----” “Let’s not--Pidge.” “And when I remembered that Sunday afternoon you took me to your house--and what a beast I was--oh, how that hurt! I’ve been so sorry and so grateful.” * * * * *