There happened to be a run of very bad weather for several days after the two persons concerned arrived in New York. That did not indeed hinder business in Wall street and elsewhere, but it put an effective barrier to pleasure seeking out of doors. The best and most exclusive appointments of the best hotel, did not quite replace Chickaree, during the long days which Hazel perforce had to spend by herself. At last there came a morning when the sun shone.
'What have you got to do to-day?' Rollo asked her.
'One trunk to fill for other people, and two for myself.'
'Sounds large! Can you do it in a day?'
'I am an adept at filling trunks.'
'Let me see your purse.'
'O that needs no looking after,' said Hazel, flushing up.
'I only want to see it,' said Dane smiling. 'Not to rifle it. I want to see what sort of a thing you carry.'
The "things" were two, and very like Hazel; a pocket-book and purse of the daintiest possible description. Various coins shewed through the gold meshes of the one; the Russia leather of the other told no tales. Rollo turned them over, half smiling to himself.
'Is there enough here for to-day's work?'