"All right, kid," he said kindly. "Go and enjoy yourself. Never mind about me—I'll jog along somehow. I'll miss you, though. I don't mind telling you that. When you're ready to come home, just telegraph and I'll take the next train for Denver. If you need any money, you know where to write me. Meantime, put this in your inside pocket."
He pressed his strong fingers down on her open palm, and closed her hand. Opening it, she found five new crisp one hundred dollar notes. A crimson glow of pleasure spread over her face and neck. For a moment she was unable to stammer her thanks.
"Oh, Will—you are so good!"
"That's nothing," he laughed lightly, "have a good time with it. Buy what things you need. You understand—that is only a little extra pin money. Your regular weekly cheque will be sent to you at Denver."
All she could say was to repeat:
"Oh—Will—you are so good!"
He lifted his glass and looked whimsically at her through the dancing bubbles of the foaming champagne. In a low voice he said:
"Here's to my little girl! May she tread the stage of Denver with the grace and charm of an Ellen Terry and return to New York covered with new laurels!"
Calling for the bill, and tossing a ten dollar note to the waiter, he rose hastily:
"I hate to go and leave you here alone, but I must catch that train."