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Mr. Nosby had had a letter from Mr. Bushmill which told him of the arrangement. He looked upon it with profound disapproval. All through dinner he listened without enthusiasm to the account which Hallie, rather spiritedly assisted by her mother, gave of the adventure; and afterwards when Hallie and her mother went to bed he informed Corcoran that he would like to speak to him alone.

“Ah—Mr. Corcoran,” he began, “would you be kind enough to let me see the little account book you are keeping for Mr. Bushmill?”

“I’d rather not,” answered Corcoran pleasantly. “I think that’s a matter between Mr. Bushmill and me.”

“It’s the same thing,” said Nosby impatiently. “Perhaps you are not aware that Miss Bushmill and I are engaged.”

“I had gathered as much.”

“Perhaps you can gather too that I am not particularly pleased at the sort of good time you chose to give her.”

“It was just an ordinary good time.”

“That is a matter of opinion. Will you give me the notebook?”

“Tomorrow,” said Corcoran, still pleasantly, “and only to Mr. Bushmill. Good-night.”