"My boy," he said to Barnes on the platform of the railway station, "I
trust you will forgive me for not finding a place in our remarkably
well-balanced cast for your friend. I have been thinking a great deal
about her in the past few days, and it has occurred to me that she
might find it greatly to her advantage to accept a brief New York
engagement before tackling the real proposition. It won't take her
long to find out whether she really likes it, and whether she thinks
it worth while to go on with it. Let me give you one bit of advice, my
dear Miss Jones. This is very important. The name of Jones will not
get you anywhere. It is a nice old family, fireside name, but it lacks
romance. Chuck it. Start your new life with another name, my dear. God
bless you! Good luck and--good-bye till we meet on the Rialto."
"I wonder how he could possibly have known," she mused aloud, the pink
still in her cheeks as the train pulled out.
"You darling," cried Barnes, "he doesn't know. But taking it by and
large, it was excellent advice. The brief New York engagement meets
with my approval, and so does the change of name. I am in a position
to supply you with both."
"Do you regard Barnes as an especially attractive name?" she inquired,
dimpling.
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