"My dear girl, I'm the busiest man in the world!" George said. "Leave all that to Allen. He's the best agent in town!" "Oh, I took them away from Allen months ago, George. Sampson has them now." "Sampson? What the deuce did you change for? I don't know that Sampson is solvent. I certainly would go back to Allen--" "George, I can't!" The widow looked at her plate, swept him a coquettish glance, and dropped her eyes again. "Mr. Allen is a dear fellow," she elucidated, "but his wife is dreadful! There's nothing she won't suspect, and nothing she won't say!" "My dear cousin, this isn't a question of social values! It's business!" George said impatiently. "But I'll tell you what to do," he added, after scowling thought. "You put it in Miss Eliot's hands; she was with Allen for some years. Now she's gone in for herself, and she's doing well. We've given her several things--" "Take it out of a man's hands to put it into a woman's!" Alys exclaimed. And Emelene added softly: "What can a woman be thinking of, to go into a dreadful business like selling real estate and collecting rents!" "Of course, she was trained by men!" Genevieve threw in, a little anxiously. Alys was so tactless, when George was tired and hungry. She cast about desperately for some neutral topic, but before she could find one the widow spoke again. "I'll tell you what I'll do, George. I'll bring the books and papers to your office tomorrow morning, and then you can do whatever you think best! Just send me a check every month, and it will be all right!" "Just gather me up what's there, on the plate," Emelene said, with her nervous little laugh in the silence. "I declare I don't know when I've eaten such a dinner! But that reminds me that you could help me out wonderfully, too, Cousin George--I can't quite call you Mr. Remington!--with those wretched stocks of mine. I'm sure I don't know what they've been doing, but I know I get less money all the time! It's the New Haven, George, that P'pa left me two years ago. I can't understand anything about it, but yesterday I was talking to a young man who advised me to put all my money into some tonic stock. It's a tonic made just of plain earth--he says it makes everything grow. Doesn't it sound reasonable? But if I should lose all I have, I'm afraid I'd _really_ wear my welcome out, Genevieve, dear. So perhaps you'll advise me?" "I'll do what I can!" George smiled, and Genevieve's heart rose. "But upon my word, what you both tell me isn't a strong argument for Betty's cause!" he added good-naturedly.