"It's true, Dora. I wished you were there more than once. I would have written more, only we had a whole lot of trouble with our enemies."
"And you really did think of me?"
"I did—nearly every day. I suppose you forgot all about me, and that's why you didn't write."
"Dick Rover, you know better than that!"
"I suppose you met some stunning Californian that owns a gold mine and he claimed all of your attention."
"I did meet one rich young man, and—and he proposed to me," faltered
Dora.
"Oh, Dora!" And now Dick's heart seemed to stop beating. "And you—you didn't accept him, did you?"
"Would you care if I did?" she whispered. "Dora!" he answered, half fiercely.
"Well, I told him I didn't want him, so there," said Dora, hurriedly. "I told him that I wanted to marry somebody that lived in the East, and that I—I—"
"And that you had the young man picked out? Why didn't you tell him that, Dora? You know—"