"Why not write a note inviting your future partner to call upon you here, or anywhere else that would be convenient, and then discuss the matter?"
Denham looked frightened.
"I thought of that, but it wouldn't do. No; it wouldn't do. I would much rather settle everything by correspondence."
"I am afraid I shall not be able to compose a letter that will suit you. There seem to be so many difficulties. It is very unusual."
"That is true, and that is why I knew no one but you could help me,
Miss Gale. If it pleases you, it will please me."
Miss Gale shook her head, but, after a few moments, she said, "How will this do?"
"Dear Sir"—
"Wait a moment," cried Mr. Denham; "that seems rather a formal opening, doesn't it? How would it read if you put it 'Dear friend'?"
"If you wish it so." She crossed out the "sir" and substituted the word suggested. Then, she read the letter:
"Dear Friend,—I have for some time past been desirous of taking a partner, and would be glad if you would consider the question and consent to join me in this business. The business is, and has been for several years, very prosperous, and, as I shall require no capital from you, I think you will find my offer a very advantageous one. I will——"
"I—I don't think I would put it quite that way." said Denham, with some hesitation. "It reads as if I were offering everything, and that my partner—well, you see what I mean."
"It's the truth," said Miss Gale, defiantly.
"Better put it on the friendly basis, as you suggested a moment ago."
"I didn't suggest anything, Mr. Denham. Perhaps it would be better if you would dictate the letter exactly as you want it. I knew I could not write one that would please you."
"It does please me, but I'm thinking of my future partner. You are doing first-rate—better than I could do. But just put it on the friendly basis."
A moment later she read:
"… join me in this business. I make you this offer entirely from a friendly, and not from a financial, standpoint, hoping that you like me well enough to be associated with me."
"Anything else, Mr. Denham?"
"No. I think that covers the whole ground. It will look rather short, type-written, won't it? Perhaps you might add something to show that I shall be exceedingly disappointed if my offer is not accepted."
"No fear," said Miss Gale. "I'll add that though. 'Yours truly,' or
'Yours very truly'?"
"You might end it 'Your friend.'"
The rapid click of the typewriter was heard for a few moments in the next room, and then Miss Gale came out with the completed letter in her hand.
"Shall I have the boy copy it?" she asked.
"Oh, bless you, no!" answered Mr. Denham, with evident trepidation.
The young woman said to herself, "He doesn't want Mr. Rogers to know, and no wonder. It is a most unbusiness-like proposal."
Then she said aloud, "Shall you want me again to-day?"
"No, Miss Gale; and thank you very much."
Next morning, Miss Gale came into Mr. Denham's office with a smile on her face.
"You made a funny mistake last night, Mr. Denham," she said, as she took off her wraps.
"Did I?" he asked, in alarm.
"Yes. You sent that letter to my address. I got it this morning. I opened it, for I thought it was for me, and that perhaps you did not need me to-day. But I saw at once that you put it in the wrong envelope. Did you want me to-day?"
It was on his tongue to say, "I want you every day," but he merely held out his hand for the letter, and looked at it as if he could not account for its having gone astray.
The next day Miss Gale came late, and she looked frightened. It was evident that Denham was losing his mind. She put the letter down before him and said:
"You addressed that to me the second time, Mr. Denham."
There was a look of haggard anxiety about Denham that gave color to her suspicions. He felt that it was now or never.
"Then why don't you answer it, Miss Gale?" he said gruffly.
She backed away from him.
"Answer it?" she repeated faintly.
"Certainly. If I got a letter twice, I would answer it."
"What do you mean?" she cried, with her hand on the door-knob.
"Exactly what the letter says. I want you for my partner. I want to marry you, and d—n financial considerations——"
"Oh!" cried Miss Gale, in a long-drawn, quivering sigh. She was doubtless shocked at the word he had used, and fled to her typewriting room, closing the door behind her.
Richard Denham paced up and down the floor for a few moments, then rapped lightly at her door, but there was no response. He put on his hat and went out into the street. After a long and aimless walk, he found himself again at his place of business. When he went in, Rogers said to him:
"Miss Gale has left, sir."
"Has she?"
"Yes, and she has given notice. Says she is not coming back, sir."
"Very well."
He went into his own room and found a letter marked "personal" on his desk. He tore it open, and read in neatly type-written characters:
"I have resigned my place as typewriter girl, having been offered a better situation. I am offered a partnership in the house of Richard Denham. I have decided to accept the position, not so much on account of its financial attractions, as because I shall be glad, on a friendly basis, to be associated with the gentleman I have named. Why did you put me to all that worry writing that idiotic letter, when a few words would have saved ever so much bother? You evidently need a partner. My mother will be pleased to meet you any time you call. You have the address,—Your friend,
"MARGARET GALE."
"Rogers!" shouted Denham, joyfully.
"Yes, sir," answered that estimable man, putting his head into the room.
"Advertise for another typewriter girl, Rogers."
"Yes, sir," said Rogers.
The
