The girl was almost startled by the change in him. His restraint had broken down once for all, at last, and she saw by the tension in his face and the glow in his eyes that his nature was stirred to its depths. In a moment or two, however, he seemed to succeed in imposing a partial control upon himself.
“I had meant to come to you only when we had made the mine a success,” he said.
“To save your pride!—you could think of that?”
Weston laughed harshly.
“My pride—there isn’t a shred of it left. But now, at least, the situation has to be faced.”
“Is it so very dreadful?” asked Ida, with a smile. “You have told me that you love me. Is that a thing to be ashamed of? Must I tell you that I am glad you came to me when you were beaten, and not when you had won? Is there anything that I should trouble myself about?”
“Your friends’ opinion, your father’s opposition——”
He broke off, and Ida, who turned in her chair, looked around suddenly with her cheeks flushed.
“My father,” she said, “is able to speak for himself.”
Weston started, for he saw Stirling standing just inside the doorway looking at them gravely. Their attitude and the girl’s expression would, he realized, be significant to a man of the contractor’s intelligence. Then Ida rose and faced the elder man.