To which the little prospector responded: "My, yes, first class, but I don't want to put you out."
"You won't," Frederic chuckled; "couldn't do it if you tried."
But it was Elizabeth who rose to make room for the extra chair on her side of the table, and who inquired presently after his wife.
"Mrs. Banks is fine," he answered, his bleak face glowing. "My, yes, seems like she makes a better showing now than she did at the Corners seven years back."
"Still driving those bays?" asked Frederic.
The mining man nodded with reluctance. "It's no use to try to get her to let 'em alone long's they are on the place, and I couldn't sneak 'em away; she was always watching around. She thinks Tisdale will likely sell when he sees she can manage the team."
"So," laughed Morganstein, "you'll have to come up with that Christmas present, after all."
"They will do for her birthday," replied Banks gravely. "I picked out a new ring for Christmas. It was a first-class diamond, and she liked it all right. She said," and a shade of humor warmed his face, "she would have to patronize the new manicure store down to Wenatchee, if I expected her to have hands fit to wear it, and if she had to live up to that ring, it would cost me something before she was through."
"And did she try the parlors?" asked Elizabeth seriously.
"My, yes, and it was worth the money. Her hands made a mighty fine showing the first trip, and before she used up her ticket, I was telling her she'd have to wear mittens when she played the old melodion, or likely her fingers would get hurt hitting the keys."