“I should hope not,” blurted Billings, who had not really taken in what Ardmore said, but who assumed that it must necessarily be something idiotic.
“She had fluffy hair,” persisted Ardmore to this serious-minded gentleman whose life was devoted to the multiplication of the Ardmore millions. Ardmore’s tone was that of a child who persists in babbling inanities to a distracted parent.
“Better let girls alone, Tommy. Mrs. Atchison told me you were going to marry Daisy Waters, and I should heartily approve the match.”
“Did Nellie tell you that? I wonder if she’s told Daisy yet? You’ll have to excuse me now, for I’m taking the Sambo Flyer. I’d like to find your governor for you; and if you’ll tell me when he was seen last——”
“Right here, just before noon to-day, and a couple of hours before I reached town. His daughter either doesn’t know where he went or she won’t tell.”
“Ah! the daughter! She remains behind to guard his retreat.”
“The daughter is still here. She’s a peppery little piece,” and Billings looked guardedly around the room. “That’s she, alone over there in the corner—the girl with the white feather in her hat who’s just signing her check. There—she’s getting up!”
Ardmore gazed across the room intently, then suddenly a slight smile played about his lips. To gain the door the girl must pass by his table, and he scrutinized her closely as she drew near and passed. She was a little girl, and her light fluffy hair swept out from under a small blue hat in a shell-like curve, and the short skirt of her tailor-made gown robbed her, it seemed, of years to which the calendar might entitle her.
“She gave me the steadiest eye I ever looked into when I asked her where her father had gone,” remarked Billings grimly as the girl passed. “She said she thought he’d gone fishing for whales.”
“So she’s Miss Dangerfield, is she?” asked Ardmore indifferently; and he rose, leaving on the plate, by a sudden impulse of good feeling towards the world, exactly double the generous tip he had intended giving. Billings was glad to be rid of Ardmore, and they parted in the hotel lobby without waste of words. The secretary of the Bronx Loan and Trust Company announced his intention of remaining another day in Atlanta in the hope of finding Governor Dangerfield, and he was so absorbed in his own affairs that he did not heed, if indeed he heard, Ardmore’s promise to keep an eye out for the lost governor. Like most other people, the secretary of the Bronx Loan and Trust Company did not understand Ardmore, but Thomas Ardmore, having long ago found himself ill-judged by the careless world, lived by standards of his own, and these would have meant nothing whatever to Billings.