waite had, no doubt, suggested that the man of whom she had
spoken so favorably would be a fool if he did not marry her. A trace
of color crept into her face, and, seeing that there was a certain
diffidence in her companion's manner, she felt that she hated Weston
of Scarthwaite. It was, however, evident that silence would be too
suggestive just then.

"I didn't make a promise, after all," she said. "Are you afraid that I
gave your people a wrong impression about you?"

"No," replied Weston quietly, looking her in the eyes. "I know you
would say nothing that was not kind of me. Still, the only thing that
would affect my people would be the fact that I haven't succeeded at
anything yet." He smiled rather grimly. "I'm not sure it wouldn't
please them, in a way. You see, they probably expected it."

On the whole, both of them were glad that Miss Farquhar came in just
then; and in a few more minutes Stirling appeared, and they went in to
dinner. It was not a very elaborate meal, for the contractor, who had
once toiled much as Weston had done, was, like a good many others of
his kind, in some respects a simple and frugal man. Still, when Ida
and Miss Farquhar left them, he laid a cigar-box on the table and
filled Weston's glass with wine.

"Now," he said, "if you have no objections, you can tell me what
you're doing in Montreal."

Weston supplied him with a brief account of his business, and
Stirling, who asked one or two very shrewd questions, sat apparently
reflecting for a minute or two.

"You struck nobody in Vancouver who seemed inclined to take a hand in
it?"

"Only one concern, and they seemed very doubtful. Anyway, their terms
were practically prohibitive."

"Grafton?"

"No. Norris & Lander."

"Well," said Stirling, "before you could expect to do anything here,
you'd want to locate the reef and get some big mining man to visit it
and give you a certificate that it was a promising property. If you
had that, and a bag of specimens of high-grade milling ore, people
would listen to you."

"The trouble is that I can't get them."

"Then," observed Stirling, "I guess you'll have to fall back on your
friends."

"I'm afraid that none of my friends have any money to invest; and, in
any case, I'd rather deal with strangers," said Weston.

His host glanced at him very keenly.

"Seems to me you have got to let the thing go," he said.

"No," declared Weston. "In some respects, it's a crazy project; but
I'm g