There was a ring in her voice from which hope was bred.
“Tell me, name it,” I cried.
“You will have to consent,” she said slowly, as if weighing every word.
“Then I consent.”
“It is an inspiration,” she continued, “I will tell Fred Reingold that I will marry him one year from to-morrow, provided the twenty thousand dollars is not paid by that time. You will have one year in which to make a fortune.”
“But will he consent to such terms?”
“Yes, if he loves me.”
My hopes sank to zero, then froze.
“I have not finished,” Edith said, she had divined my thoughts, “they have found great gold fields on the Yukon, it is a frightful country on the confines of Alaska. You must go there and find a fortune and be back in time.”
“But how?” I asked.