She regretted this, but she was human, and she knew that the man loved her.

It seemed only reasonable to expect that he would proceed to make that fact clear to her now that he had found the mine, but she was a little puzzled about his smile.

It indicated rather too much self-possession for a man on the verge of a proposal, and she did not know that since he entered the house he had been endeavoring to impose a due restraint upon himself.
"Oh," she said hastily, "I'm very glad.

You found the mine ?" "No," replied Weston, gravely, "Grenfell found it." "Where is he?
Have you brought him with you ?" "I haven't," said Weston, and she noticed the sudden dropping of his voice, "Grenfell's dead.

He--went on--the night before we struck the lode up there in the bush." "Before you struck the lode?
But you said he found it." "Yes," admitted Weston, quietly, "I think he did." He told her the story in a few forceful words, and when he had finished, her eyes grew a trifle hazy.