Valentin concluded his business with the desk clerk and walked over to where the girls were chatting. Once again he touched the brim of his black Stetson as a gesture of respect to the young women, politely waiting for their conversation to conclude.

Arabella acknowledged the tall man with a friendly smile, but her attention was soon fully back on the alluring Alafair. 

"I have a slightly different point of view on names. I believe a person's name carries great power. Besides, I think you are quite pretty..."

Arabella adopted a look of coy shyness at this compliment and wondered at what 'powers' the name Arabella Sumter Mudd possessed - this all sounded like the sort of Theosophical nonsense daffy Mrs Orr would come out with - but what notions Arabella would dismiss from that particular menopausal and addled source, she would listen too with more open ears from the charming Alafair. 

"... and one's spirit should represent the person, not their looks. It is wisely said, Do not judge a book by its cover."

That was true, Miss Mudd remembered opening a very innocent looking tome from Mr Pettigrew's bookshelf once and finding the illustrations within quite shocking, even for her broad mind. 

Smiling, Alafair extended a tiny hand to gently touch Arabella's arm. The girl was a tad odd and her conversation tended to ramble and go off on tangents, but Alafair sensed a genuine and gentle spirit within.

Arabella reached her hand across and held it over Alafair's as it touched her arm, her pupils dilatating wildly at the contact.

"Papa and I need to go clean up a bit and get settled in our rooms. I do hope we are in town long enough for us to meet up again." This last statement was as honest as Alafair ever was upon first meeting. It was very rare for young women in her age range to make an effort to engage her in conversation, let alone friendship.

"Oh do just drop into my room anytime you fancy, Miss Caine, no need to knock, I do find your company so very fascinating. It's number 13, but you won't have bad luck if you call on me." she informed the other girl, helpfully.

When they'd moved in, Mrs Nightingale, superstitious as most actors and actresses were, objected to the number; but Arabella had pointed out that as there were two of them, it was only seven and a half each. Mrs Nightingale, who was as bad at math as Arabella, had agreed. 

Valentin took his daughter's arm and slipped her their room keys, "I'll get our gear. Miss Arabella, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. If our business keeps us in town, perhaps we'll meet up again."

"Oh I do hope so, Mister Caine!" beamed the Virginian girl nearly cricking her neck looking up at the big fellow "Such a change to meet such a charming, handsome man around here!" But unlike her dalliance with Alafair, her flirtatious manner with the father was mere policy. Seemed like a nice enough feller, though. 

"Farewell for now!" she smiled as she exited through the fancy front door of the hotel and onto the main street of the busy western town.