o be moiled and
muddled by a limited company. Saving, starving, scheming, I built it bit
by bit, and to-day there's no cotton spun in Lancashire to beat the Orb
brand. There'll be plenty of good men under thee, and I'm waiting to make
thee acting partner. Ay, it's old and done I'm growing, and, Ralph
Lorimer, I'm telling thee what none but her ever guessed before--I would
have sold my soul for a kind word from thy mother."

For a time, almost bewildered by the splendid offer, I stared blankly into
the eddying smoke, while my thoughts refused to concentrate themselves,
and I first wondered why he had made it to me. Now I know it was partly
due to the staunch pride of race and family that once held the yeomen of
the dales together in foray and feud, and partly to a fondness for myself
that I had never wholly realized. Then it became apparent that I could
not accept it. Grace would pine in smoke-blackened Lancashire, as she had
told me, and I knew that the life of mill and office would grow
intolerable, while the man who acted as Martin Lorimer's partner would
have small respite from it. There was Harry also, who had linked his
future with my great project. But the offer was tempting after the
constant financial pressure, and for another minute the words failed me.

"I am awaiting thy answer, lad," said Martin Lorimer.

Then I stood up before him as I said slowly: "You are generous,
uncle--more than generous, and it grieves me that the answer can only
be--no. Give me a few moments to explain why this must be so. I could
never settle down to the shut-in life; and half-hearted work would only be
robbery. You would demand his best from your partner, wouldn't you?"

"I should; brain and body," said the old man, grimly watching me with
hawk-like eyes, for there was a steely underside to his character.

I leaned one elbow on the back of a chair as I continued: "I could not
give it. Besides, I have set my heart on winning my own fortune out of the
prairie--I am in honor bound to my partner Lorraine in this, and--I can
never leave Canada until the lady I hope to marry some day goes with me.
You saw her at the opening ceremony--Miss Carrington."

Martin Lorimer smote the table, which, when excited, was a favorite trick
of his.

"Thy wife!" he said stupidly. "Art pledged to marry Miss Carrington of all
women, lad? And does she care for thee?"

"I trust so," I answered slowly, as I watched the frown deepen on the old
man's fa