CHAPTER XXXII
THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE
On the day after the meeting Andrew returned to Ghyllside, and Hilda met him at the station, her eyes sparkling with delight.
"You have won!" she cried. "Antony came down last night and brought us the news. Then Gertrude was over this morning and could talk of nothing else. She said you were splendid, and she got quite vexed when I told her she needn't speak as if she hadn't expected it."
"After all, my position was a strong one," Andrew said. "It doesn't need much skill to win the game when you hold the best cards, and of course Dream Mine was the ace of trumps. Leonard could only throw down his hand when I brought it out."
"Ah! but how did you get the ace? It wasn't by chance; you searched for it, starving, in the snow. But it's a silly metaphor—one isn't allowed to choose one's cards."
"That's true," Andrew replied with a trace of gravity. "It was dealt to me—I think not by accident. Without it, I should not have won the game."
Hilda's manner changed, for she was seldom serious long.
"Well," she said, when he had helped her into the waiting trap, "in the future you'll be called on to play a different one. You can't reasonably expect to find another mine, and you'll have no excuse for tramping through the wilds on snow-shoes, after this. Instead of furs and moccasins, you'll have to wear a silk hat and a Bond street coat, and write things in ledgers instead of firing off dynamite. How will you like it?"
"I don't know. However, I suppose it will have to be done; though I might, perhaps, hire somebody to do the writing for me."
"That would be better," Hilda laughed; "your writing isn't good. But I'm afraid there's a bit of a trial in store for you to-night. All your friends and relatives in the neighborhood are coming to dinner and of course they'll congratulate you and try to look as if you hadn't astonished them. In a way, the situation is distinctly humorous."