you that I have promised to marry Mr.
Weston when things are propitious," she said. She looked around at
Weston with a smile. "At least, I suppose I have."

"Ah!" said Stirling, dryly, "the situation rather suggested it. Mr.
Weston has, no doubt, something to say to me."

Ida glanced at Weston and slipped out of the room.

CHAPTER XXXI

HIGH-GRADE ORE

Stirling waited until the door closed before he turned to Weston.

"Sit down. We've got to have a straight talk," he said.

Weston complied, feeling that he had to face the most unpleasant few
minutes he had ever spent in his life. He had given way to his passion
in a moment of desperation, and he fancied that he could make no
defense which would appear reasonable to such a man as his companion.
In spite of this, he was filled with a certain reckless exultation.
Ida Stirling loved him.

"What Miss Stirling told you was correct," he said. "At least, I
intend to marry her if ever--things are propitious; but, as far as I
can remember, she did not bind herself."

"There are occasions when one's memory gets a little confused," said
Stirling, dryly. "You have made the situation quite clear; but there
are one or two points to consider, and, so far, you haven't troubled
to ascertain my views on the matter."

"That remark," said Weston, "is quite warranted. I have only this to
say. When I entered your house half an hour ago I hadn't the faintest
notion that I should permit my feelings to run away with me."

"Then this thing has been going on for quite a time?"

Stirling's tone was coldly even, but Weston did not like the question.
The form of it rather jarred on him. He realized, however, that he was
on his defense, and would probably have to put up with a good deal
more than that.

"I have had a strong regard for Miss Stirling since I first met her in
British Columbia," he said. "That, however, is all I can admit. I do
not know how she thought of me, and I have, at least, never knowingly,
until this evening, spoken a word which could show her what my
feelings were."

"Oh," said Stirling, "you've lived in the woods. If you hadn't, you'd
have found out by now that young women possess a certain faculty of
putting things together. Anyway," he added enigmatically, "I don't
know that the bush isn't as good a place to raise a man in as the
hothouse Susan Frisingham talked about."

Weston gazed at him in some astonishment, but the contractor made a
little ges