"You were quite right," he said, halting a moment beside her; "I don't
blame you, and let me hope that later you may think me less to blame
than you do now. Now, what's to be done? Clearly, I've first to make it
right with Tommy--I mean Jimmy--and then we must make a straight dash
over to the girl! Whoop!" Before she could understand from his face the
strange change in his voice, he had dashed out of the room. In a moment
he reappeared with the boy struggling in his arms. "Think of the little
scamp not knowing his own brother!" he laughed, giving the boy a really
affectionate, if slightly exaggerated hug, "and expecting me to open my
arms to the first little boy who jumps into them! I've a great mind not
to give him the present I fetched all the way from California. Wait
a moment." He dashed into the bedroom, opened his valise--where he
providentially remembered he had kept, with a miner's superstition, the
first little nugget of gold he had ever found--seized the tiny bit of
quartz of gold, and dashed out again to display it before Jimmy's eager
eyes.

If the heartiness, sympathy, and charming kindness of the man's whole
manner and face convinced, even while it slightly startled, the young
girl, it was still more effective with the boy. Children are quick
to detect the false ring of affected emotion, and Bob's was so
genuine--whatever its cause--that it might have easily passed for a
fraternal expression with harder critics. The child trustfully nestled
against him and would have grasped the gold, but the young man
whisked it into his pocket. "Not until we've shown it to our little
sister--where we're going now! I'm off to order a sleigh." He dashed
out again to the office as if he found some relief in action, or, as
it seemed to Miss Boutelle, to avoid embarrassing conversation. When he
came back again he was carrying an immense bearskin from his luggage. He
cast a critical look at the girl's unseasonable attire.