The tone, fully as much as the words themselves, seemed entirely to satisfy Harrison. Without objection he rose.
"All right," he answered, "I'll be over to-morrow night, and I'll be looking to hear good news, too."
The girl made no answer. For a moment, Harrison paused at the door, then turned and came swiftly toward her. "Just one kiss, Ethel," he said, "just to show everything's all right between us."
With a little laugh the girl rose and yielded herself to his embrace, nor did Harrison, consumed with passion, note that her lips met his without response. Once, twice, thrice, he kissed her upturned lips; then without a word half threw her from him and burst blindly from the room.
Scarcely five minutes later, and Gordon sat in the self-same chair which Harrison had occupied, gazing with approval at the slender figure opposite. Beyond question, the strain of the past few weeks had changed her, and not for the worse. The girl's face was thinner and more thoughtful, and yet far more attractive even than before; the soft, petulant prettiness of the child giving place to the real beauty of the woman.
"You wanted to see me about the mine?" she queried.
Gordon shook his head. "That," he answered, "was only a somewhat clumsy excuse. But I did want to see you very much, and I wanted to see you alone, so I thought the mine would serve."
The girl nodded. "And now?" she asked.
Gordon noted the little smile that played about her lips. In some things, he acknowledged on the instant to himself, no man could ever hope to cope successfully with a woman. And he smiled in answer.
"Yes," he said slowly, "that's it. I want you to marry me to-morrow morning, and start East with me on the express to-morrow afternoon."