"Thanks. One good turn deserves another. I'll tell my aunt that she ought to ask you to dine; and then if you don't give her to understand that her will is all wrong and should be drawn over again the fault will be yours." "Bankers may advertise their wares in the shop windows, but a self-respecting lawyer may only look wise. He must hold his tongue until he is consulted." "Squat in his office, eh, like a spider waiting for flies? But you ought to know my aunt all the same." "I should like to immensely," said Gordon. "She's not like the rest of the family; she belongs to a different flight. My father has brains and force. It's not easy to equal him in those. He hasn't had time though to sort his ideas and tie them up in nice white packages with crimson bows or to polish anything except his wits. But Aunt Miriam goes in for the perfect life. That's what she has in her mind's eye. You would suit her to death, Don. You ought to be pals. She's absorbed in reforms and æsthetic mission work, and she has a fine scent for national tendencies, and there's no telling but you might each get points from the other." Gordon laughed. "You flatter me, Paul." "No, I don't. You're not alike. You're both aiming at the same thing, I suppose; but your ways are different. And you can't very well both be right. You may not be pals after all. You may disagree and fight. Come to think of it, I shouldn't be in the least surprised if you did. A pitched battle between Gordon Perry and Mrs. Randolph Wilson would be worth watching." Paul chuckled mirthfully at the conception. "I'm not quite sure which of you I would back." "And now you're enigmatic, not to say absurd."