John Denby saw his mistake at once; but he did not make the second mistake of showing it.
"Nonsense!" he laughed lightly, with no sign of the sudden panic of fear within him lest the look on his son's face meant the downfall of all his plans. "I made it large purposely. Remember, I'm borrowing her husband for a season; and she needs some recompense! Besides, it'll mean a playday for herself. You'll not be so unjust to Helen as to refuse her the means to enjoy that!—not that she'll spend it all for that, of course. But it will be a comfortable feeling to know that she has it."
"Y-yes, of course," hesitated Burke, still frowning.
"Then we'll call that settled."
"I know; but— Of course if you put it that way, why, I—"
"Well, I do put it just that way," nodded the father lightly. "Now, let's go in. I've got some maps and time-tables I want you to see. I'm planning a different route from the one we took with the doctor—a better one, I think. But let's see what you say. Come!" And he led the way to the library.
Burke's head came up alertly. His shoulders lost their droop and his brow its frown. A new light flamed into his eyes and a new springiness leaped into his step. Always, from the time his two-year-old lips had begged to "see the wheels go 'round," had Burke's chief passion and delight been traveling. As he bent now over the maps and time-tables that his father spread before him, voice and hands fairly trembled with eagerness. Then suddenly a chance word sent him to his feet again, the old look of despair on his face.
"Dad, I can't," he choked. "I can't be a quitter. You don't want me to be!"
