"Yes, it's a bargain," she called back, as she tripped off again down the yard.
Mike's début was as great a success as so small a part could make it; and the main point about it was the excitement of knowing that this was an actual beginning. He had made them all laugh and cry in drawing-rooms for ever so long; but to-night he was on the stage, the real stage--real, at all events, for him, for Mike could never be an amateur. Esther's eyes filled with glad tears as the well-loved little figure popped in, with a baker's paper hat on his head, and delivered the absurd words; and if you had looked at Henry's face too, you would have been at a loss to know which loved the little pastry-cook's boy best.
When Mike returned to his dressing-room, a mysterious box was awaiting him. He opened it, and found Esther's wreath and Henry's sonnet.
"God bless them," he said.
No doubt it was very childish and sentimental, and old-fashioned; but these young people certainly loved each other.
As Mike had left the stage, Henry had turned round and smiled at some one a few seats away. Esther had noticed him, and looked in the same direction.
"Who was that you bowed to, Henry?"
"I'll tell you another time," he said; for he had a good deal to tell her about Angel Flower.