"But, heavens alive—that makes it worse than ever! The Admiral, he surely isn't going off dancing as well?"
"No; Missa's coming with me. We leave to-morrow, for Paris, Eriksen—London—New York—oh, ever so far!"
"But—but then, I shall never see you again."
"Indeed you shall, Eriksen; I'll send you tickets, a whole box all to yourself, for my performance in Paris. Just fancy, a box at the theatre all to yourself. And you must pay me a thousand pounds for it now."
"But the Admiral—the Admiral! I might just as well give myself up and go to jail."
"Don't talk nonsense, Eriksen! Are you my friend or are you not?"
The Princess got her thousand. And Eriksen duly entered in his cash book:
"By cash advanced to Miss Baby on account, as per receipt number 325, £1000."
And the Princess on her part solemnly signed for the money:
"Received cash in advance on account of expected inheritance, £1000—one thousand pounds."