"And don't you think that the sooner we have the flare up the better?—Oh, hang! I keep on forgetting about that clock!"
"Lucky blighter! However, it's your affair, and the change might be Lancaster's salvation. He'll never get any peace for his poor weary soul where he is."
"You are fond of the man, Teddy?"
"Always liked him," Teddy answered, a trifle shortly. "Not so fond as you are, judging from what you're doing for him."
"Oh, drop that! I suppose there's no likelihood of getting them all to come North?"
"Can you imagine Mrs. Lancaster existing for a week without crowds of people and shops and theatres?"
"Well, we'll see," said Alan. "I—I'll consult Doris about it."
Ten minutes later they were in the Midland Hotel. Alan found a telegram from Caw—"Nothing doing,"—and received a legal-looking person who had been awaiting his arrival.
* * * * *
Time, the kindly concealer, is also the pitiless exposer. How often in the Arctic had Alan imagined, with his whole being athrill, this reunion with the girl who, in the last strained moment of parting, had promised to wait for him! How often had Doris, in the secrecy of her soul, even when the last hope of reunion had failed, repeated the promise as though the spirit of her lost lover could hear! And now fate had set these two once more face to face, and—neither was quite sure. Emotion indeed was theirs, joy and thankfulness, but passionate rapture—no! A clasping of hands, a kiss after ever so slight a hesitation, and the embrace that both had dreamed of was somehow evaded.