Again the little head nodded.
"You understand now why I wish to get away, to finish my work abroad. I'll be nearer to him with the ocean between us. He'll miss me then. I feel it, know it. When I return he will be proud of my voice. I shall go mad if I stay here and see him dangling at that woman's heels. I watched her with him to-day, devouring him with her eyes, her millions won by his betrayal, yet proud, miserable, envious, and determined to wreck his life. But I shall return in time to make him know. He loves music. I shall sing when he hears me as I never sang before, and I shall say to him then all the unspoken things I dare not put in speech. You understand, Papa dear, you'll send me away and help me to win?"
The father kissed the trembling lips and answered firmly.
"Yes, I'll raise the money for you right away."
And then for half an hour she lay in his arms while he whispered beautiful thoughts of her future—things he had promised himself to say often before and had not said, until at last she smiled with joy. When he sent her to bed he had kissed the last tear away.
She looked at him wistfully at the door.
"I'm not going to make this fight for fame and money—it's all for the heart of the man I love."
"I understand, dear!" he answered cheerily as he threw her a last kiss.
When she had gone and he heard her door close, he stood for a moment, lost in thought, and then slowly exclaimed:
"And now I've got to surrender."