“If you’d only forget your foolish astronomy, Joshua. I can’t think about—well, about what you just said—until you do. When I think of your spending two thousand dollars for that telescope, Joshua, why, I—I’m almost afraid you’re crazy! I can’t live in the mountains always. I’ve seen too much of life. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you must make money, dear boy. If we were—well, now—married, we’d have to have money. And you can’t make it up there—that is, unless the land proves to be good, and things turn out all right, and you work your claim for all that’s in it. There isn’t a living on Spyglass Mountain, Joshua.”
“Why, I can make a living for us, Madge. I mean to work my claim, of course. But I can’t give up my astronomy.”
“It will take all of your time,”—her tones were positive. “And besides, I consider that land only a stepping stone to something better. I mean to develop it and then sell out to some one who hadn’t the nerve to pioneer as we intend to.”
“Does Jack Montgomery want to marry you?” he asked abruptly.
“Should you have asked that, Joshua? You’re so unsophisticated!”
“Why not?”—his voice was boyishly belligerent.
“Well—he’s asked me to.”
“Do you love him?”
“I don’t like your tone, Joshua!”
“Do you?”