It was when he held Ruth in his arms that same afternoon—behind the door, really,—she couldn't wait until they reached the room,—that Jack whispered in her astonished and delighted ears the good news of the expected check from Garry's committee.
“And daddy won't lose anything; and he can take the new work!” she cried joyously. “And we can all go up to the mountains together! Oh, Jack!—let me run and tell daddy!”
“No, my darling,—not a word, Garry had no business to tell me what he did; and it might leak out and get him into trouble:—No, don't say a word. It is only a few days off. We shall all know next week.”
He had led her to the sofa, their favorite seat.
“And now I am going to tell you something that would be a million times better than Garry's check if it were only true,—but it isn't.”
“Tell me, Jack,—quick!” Her lips were close to his.
“Uncle Arthur wants to buy my ore lands.”
“Buy your—And we are going to be—married right away! Oh, you darling Jack!”
“Wait,—wait, my precious, until I tell you!” She did not wait, and he did not want her to. Only when he could loosen her arms from his neck did he find her ear again, then he poured into it the rest of the story.
“But, oh, Jack!—wouldn't it be lovely if it were true,—and just think of all the things we could do.”