On the day Miss Travenion left Salt Lake City, at eleven o'clock, the young man calls at the Townsend House, to keep the appointment Erma has made for him with her father. He comes up to the office of that hotel, rather light-hearted, considering his desperate straits financially. He is about to see the girl he loves—she who, in wild moments, since her generosity of yesterday, he thinks may have some interest in him; for otherwise why should she take such pains to have him see her father?
He asks lightly: "Is Miss Travenion in?"
"Miss Travenion has gone," says the clerk, a little curtly, for the sudden departure of the Livingstons has not altogether pleased the hotel office.
"And the Livingstons—" asks Lawrence, hurriedly.
"The whole party went to California this morning at five o'clock, on the Ogden train," answers the youth behind the counter indifferently, for Mormon hotel clerks are quite often as careless as Gentile hotel clerks.
After a moment of blank astonishment, Harry suggests: "Any letter for Captain Lawrence?"
"Yes," replies the clerk, and hands him an envelope, the feminine handwriting on which he knows, and it gives back to him hope,—for one moment. Stepping aside a little, he opens it; and the sun, shining so brilliantly this bright October day, goes out of the heavens—for him. For he sees a lady's visiting card which looks like this:
"I have seen my father, Good bye" written on top of Miss Erma L. Travenion's card.