"We must raise that money somewhere or we are ruined," Cherry observed, with decision.
"Well, rather!" Boyd agreed, with a desperate grimace.
The girl laughed. "Mr. Hilliard and I merely tried each other's mettle this morning. I am to return at four."
"Let's meet later and dress each other's wounds," he suggested. Cherry's presence had heartened him wonderfully, and the sight of her brightly animated face across the table inspired him with a kind of joyous courage, the like of which he had scarcely felt since their former meeting. In her company his worries had almost disappeared, laughter had become a living thing, and youth a blessing.
"I'll agree to anything," she answered; then, becoming suddenly earnest, she spoke with shining eyes: "Mr. Hilliard is going to open up this copper, and it is going to make me rich—rich! I can't tell you what that means to me—you wouldn't understand. I can leave that whole North Country behind me, and all that it signifies. I can be what I want to be—what I really am."
Boyd saw the great yearning in her eyes, saw that she was fairly breathless with the intensity of her hope. He reached forth and, taking her tightly clasped hands in his, said, simply:
"If I can help you in any way it will be my greatest pleasure." Her glance dropped before his straight gaze, and she answered:
"You are a good man. I am glad to have you for a friend. But you will pardon my selfishness, won't you? I didn't mean to put forward my own affairs when yours are going so badly."
"They went very well," he declared, "until I tried to climb this—glacier."
"Did that newspaper story frighten Mr. Hilliard?"