Mrs. Foster and her husband offered their congratulations, and for the next hour they discussed Blake's future plans, after which they were interrupted by the entrance of a servant with a small silver tray.
"Telegram, sir, for Mr. Blake," he said. "Hopkins was at the post office, and they gave it him."
Blake took the envelope and looked at Miss Challoner for permission to open it. When he had done so, he started and gave the form to Millicent.
"Oh, Dick!" she cried with sparkling eyes. "Isn't this very good."
"I believe so." Blake turned to the others. "After the good feeling you have shown towards us, I daresay you'll be interested to hear my partner's latest news." He read out: "'Come. Struck it. Tell Challoner.'"
He turned to Mrs. Keith. "This should set me firmly on my feet and may make me rich." Then he addressed Challoner. "But I don't understand the last of it. Why does he wish you to know?"
The Colonel chuckled. "I sent Mr. Harding five hundred pounds to buy anything he needed for his prospecting, and told him to give me an option on a good block of shares in the new syndicate at par. You're very independent, Dick, but I can't see why you should object to your relatives putting money into what looks like a promising thing."
"I've no doubt it was mainly through your help Harding found the oil," Blake said gratefully.
Soon after this the Fosters rose to go, but they waited sympathetically in the hall while Millicent lingered with Blake in the drawing-room.
"Dick," she said, blushing, "you made a rash statement, I didn't quite promise to marry you as soon as you came back."