“The writing-case is for me, Dexter,” she said, with a smile.
“For you?” he said wonderingly.
“Yes, so that I may have, at least, two letters from you every week. You promise that?”
“Oh yes,” he said, “if you will not mind the writing.”
“And the purse is for you,” she said. “If you want a little more money than papa is going to allow you weekly, you may write and ask me.”
It grew harder still on the morning of departure, and Dexter would have given anything to stay, but he went off manfully with the doctor in the station fly, passing Sir James Danby and Master Edgar on the road.
“Humph!” grunted the doctor. “See that, Dexter!”
“I saw Sir James laugh at you when he nodded.”
“Do you know why!”
Dexter was silent for a few minutes.