on just then, or
whether it was me heavin' a sigh of relief. "Ain't you?" says I. "But
Vee's strong for it, and if you don't mind----"

"My niece is writing letters," says Aunty, "and asked not to be
disturbed until after five o'clock."

"But in this case," I goes on, "maybe she'd sidetrack the letters if
you'd send up word how----"

"Young man," says Aunty, settin' her chin firm, "I think you are quite
aware of my attitude. Your persistent attentions to my niece are wholly
unwelcome. True, you are no longer a mere office boy; but--well, just
who are you?"

"Private sec. of Mutual Funding," says I.

"And a youth known as Torchy?" she adds sarcastic.

"Yes; but see here!" says I. "I've just dug up a----"

"That will do," she breaks in. "We have discussed all this before. And
I've no doubt you think me simply a disagreeable, crotchety old person.
Has it ever occurred to you, however, that you may have failed to get my
point of view? Can you not conceive then that it might be somewhat
humiliating to me to know that my maids suppress a smile as they
announce--Mr. Torchy? Understand, I am not censuring you for being a
nameless waif. No, do not interrupt. I realize that this is something
for which you should not be held responsible. But can't you see, young
man----"

"If I can't," I cuts in, "I need an eye doctor bad. I'll tell you what
I'll do about this name business, though. I'm going to issue a white
paper on the subject."

"A--a what?" says Aunty.

"Seein' you ain't much of a listener," says I, "I'll submit the case in
writin'. You win the round, though. And if it don't hurt you too much,
you might tell Vee I was here. You can use a bichloride of mercury mouth
wash afterwards, you know."

Saying which, I does the young hero act, swings proudly on muh heel, and
exits left center, leavin' Aunty speechless in her chair.

So Herman and me starts off all by our lonesome, swings into the Grand
Boulevard and out through Pelham Parkway to the Boston Post Road. Deep
glooms for me! Even the way we breezed by speedy roadsters don't bring
me any thrills.

I was still chewin' over that zippy roast Aunty had handed me. Nameless
waif, eh? Say, that's the rawest she'd ever stated it. Course I was
fixed now to show her where she'd overdone the part; but somehow I
couldn't seem to frame up any way of gettin' my fam'ly tree on record
without seemin' to do it boastful. Besides, Aunty wouldn't take my word
for Uncle Kyrle a