you tell him for me that he’s a real publicity man, and if they don’t treat him right down there, I'll give him a place to hang his hat.”
Uncle Elliott’s commendation of Tommy didn’t please Dorothy. It was tactless to praise him in front of Arnold.
“Now look here, young woman. I want you to get me fifty tickets for your concert, and I’ll see that they’re sold. I'll make every mother’s son down at the office buy a couple. It’ll do ’em all good to hear some good music. Say, Deering, why don’t you do the same?”
Arnold looked startled.
“Why—I—never thought of that. I’m not in an office, you know. I’m for myself.”
“You don’t need an office to sell tickets. When you go down to the Street tomorrow, just stop every fellow you know and make ’em take a couple. Tell ’em what a great girl Dorothy is. I guess you can do that, all right”—Uncle Elliott chuckled, vulgarly, Dorothy thought —“and they won’t be able to resist it. They'll want to buy tickets. They'll fight for ’em. That’s the spirit that gets things done!”
Arnold agreed to try.
‘Don’t try—just buck up and do it!” was Uncle EIliott’s comment.
It was an agreeable day for Dorothy. Arnold was to stay for dinner, and he suggested a little walk along Broadway. They met several acquaintances who stopped and said “I see you're giving a recital” and “Saw your picture in the paper today.” Dorothy would respond: Oh) thank you so much! Yes, I am making my début next Saturday.” And Arnold would add, “Of course, you'll be there,” for which he always received a brilliant smile from Dorothy. They went out for tea in the afternoon,
[155]
