“Oh, Dick!  Everything has been horribly hard for you always, and I’m making it harder.  I don’t want to, Dicky dear.  You know I don’t.  It is just that I can’t help it.”

“I know, Tony.  You mustn’t bother about me.  I’m all right.  Will you tell me just one thing though?  If you hadn’t cared for Massey—­no I won’t put it like that.  If you had cared for me would my not having any name have made any difference?”

“Of course it wouldn’t have made any difference, Dicky.  What does a name matter?  You are you and that is what I would care for—­do care for.  The rest doesn’t matter.  Besides, you are making a name for yourself.”

“I am doing it under your name—­the one you gave me.”

“I am proud to have it used that way.  Why wouldn’t I be?  It is honored.  You have not only lived up to it as you promised Uncle Phil.  You have made it stand for something fine.  Your stories are splendid.  You are going to be famous and I—­Why, Dicky, just think, it will be my name you will take on up to the stars.  Oh, we’re here,” as the cab jolted to a halt in front of the Hostelry.

The cabby flung open the door.  Tony and Dick stepped out, went up the steps.  In a moment they were alone in the dimly lit hall.

“Tony, would you mind letting me kiss you just once as you would Larry or Ted if one of them were going off on a long journey away from you?”

Dick’s voice was humble, pleading.  It touched Tony deeply, and sent the quick tears welling up into her eyes as she raised her face to his.

For a moment he held her close, kissed her on the cheek and then released her.

“Good-by, Tony.  Thank you and God bless you,” he said a little huskily as he let her go.

“Good-by, Dick.”  And then impulsively Tony put up her lips and kissed him, the first time he ever remembered a woman’s lips touching his.

A second later the door closed upon him, shutting him out in the night.  He dismissed the cab driver and walked blindly off, not knowing or caring in what direction he went.  It was hours before he let himself into his lodging house.  It seemed as if he could have girdled the earth on the strength of Tony Holiday’s kiss.  The next morning he was off for Mexico.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE KALEIDOSCOPE REVOLVES

Tony slept late next morning and when she did open her eyes they fell upon a huge florist box by the door and a special delivery letter on top of it.  The maid had set the two in an hour ago and tiptoed away lest she waken the weary little sleeper.

Tony got up and opened the box.  Roses—­dozens of them, worth the price of a month’s wages to many a worker in the city!  Frail, exquisite, shell-pink beauties, with gold at their hearts!  Tony adored roses but she almost hated these because it seemed to her Alan was bribing her forgiveness by playing upon her worship of their beauty and fragrance.