"Good! And what are you going to give me, so that I can make my presents, Beary?"
"Ugh!" but he growled it in fun, and had a pocket-book out from his breast-pocket directly after. Fives—tens—twenties—fifties—all crisp, and nice, and new bank-notes.
"Will that be enough, Netty?" He held up a twenty. The smiling face nodded assent, and the bright eyes twinkled.
"No, it won't. But that will," he continued, giving her a fifty.
"Fifty dollars, Globe Bank, Boston!" exclaimed Netty, making great eyes at him. "But we must take all we can get, pa-sy; mustn't we? It's too much, though. Thank you all the same, pa-sy, nevertheless." And she kissed him, and put the bill in a little bit of a portemonnaie with a gay laugh.
"Well done, I declare!" he said, smilingly. "But you're going to the party?"
"Pretty soon, pa."
He made no answer; but sat smiling at her. The phantom watched them, silently.
"What made pa so cross and grim, to-night? Tell Netty—do," she pleaded.
"Oh! because;—everything went wrong with me, to-day. There." And he looked as sulky, at that moment, as he ever did in his life.