"I must trespass on your hospitality for a few minutes," Val said hastily, "until Mr. Willing has time to help me carry out my plans for the day. When he's finished his work——"
"You ain't in anyone's way here, I'm sure," returned the young woman, still eyeing the mysterious stranger aloofly, but with admiration. She put up one plump hand and uneasily touched the dangling hair-wavers, as if she wished to tuck them out of sight.
"This is Miss Izzie, that I told you about," announced Bill, in his best society manner, "the Boss's daughter."
The girl bowed, as she had seen heroines do on being introduced to heroes, in plays at an adjacent melodramatic theatre. "How often must I tell you, Bill, not to call me 'Miss Izzie'? Miss Isidora—if you please. I hate Izzie." And she glanced out of the corners of her long almond-shaped eyes at Loveland. "You're an actor, ain't you, Mr. Gordon?" she asked.
"No, I'm not," replied Val, stiffening slightly.
"Excuse me, if I've said the wrong thing," cooed the girl, in her soft, rather guttural tones, sweet as if she spoke with honey in her mouth. "I didn't see how Bill come to have a swell friend, unless 'twas an actor. Bill used to be always around the theatres before he worked for us, so I thought——" She paused, still gazing through drooped lashes; then turned away with a little shrug. "But I must go. I only came down like this, Bill, to have a look round for Pa, because he's sick with a cold. I told him I'd see after things till he's better. He don't like me foolin' round in business hours, with a lot of men staring and passing remarks" (she threw another glance at Val, to see if he were impressed by this exclusiveness) "but he feels too bad to care today. I'll go pour myself into my glad rags now and be down again as soon as I can."
"Boss sick, is he?" said Bill, who was finishing his work on the room side of the blackboard, by indicating a lobster with thick, scarlet strokes of fast flying chalk. "Won't be down till bye-and-bye!"
The daughter of Alexander the Great showed her dimples. "You think that means you'll get a free meal, I guess. When the cat's away——"
"And has got a pretty, kind kitten for his understudy," Bill finished.
"We—ell, you know I'm soft, don't you? If you want anything, look sharp and get it, or Pa might change his mind and pop in. Won't you have something, Mr. Gordon?" she went on, hospitably, dropping the rough and ready manner she used with Bill, for another attempt at imitating the stage heroine who was her ideal of high-born feminine graciousness.