“You—YOU built this house?” she gasped.
“I've worked on it every hour, day and night, the past two years when I wasn't earning a living in the mine. I made every stick of that furniture in the rooms up there—for you and my boy. The house is yours—whether you let me stay or not.”
“I—I can't take it, Jim,” she faltered.
“You've got to, girlie. You can't throw a gift like this back in a fellow's face—it cost too much! Your money's all gone. You've got to bring up that kid. He's mine, too. I'm man enough to support my wife and baby and I'm going to do it. I don't care what you say. You've got to let me. I'm going to work for you, live for you and die for you—whether you stay with me or not. I've got the right to do that, you know.”
She lifted her head and faced him squarely for the first time, amazed at the new dignity and strength of his quiet bearing.
“You HAVE changed, Jim——”
Her eyes sought the depths of his soul in a moment's silence, and she slowly extended her hand:
“We'll try again!”
He bent and kissed the tips of her fingers reverently.
They stood for a moment hand in hand and looked over the sunlit valley of the Swannanoa shimmering in peace and beauty between its sheltering walls of blue mountains. The bees were humming spring music among the flowers at their feet and the faint odor of fruit trees in blossom came from the orchard Jim had planted two years before.