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 gesture with his hand.
"Well," he said, "you meant to keep the thing to yourself?"
"Until I had made the Grenfell Consolidated a success, when I should
have come to you."
"Quite the proper course," commented Stirling. "It's kind of a pity
you didn't stick to it. When you had arrived at that wise decision, why did you come here to talk to my daughter?"
It was a shrewd question, and perfectly warranted, but Weston answered
it candidly.
"I think I came because I could not stay away," he said.
"Then it never occurred to you that my daughter might fall in love
with you?"
A flush crept into Weston's face.
"At least," he said, "I never came here with the intention of
profiting by that possibility."
Stirling laughed in a rather dry fashion.
"Then she was to do it all at once, when you intimated that she had
permission to?"
"It almost looks like that," Weston admitted, with an embarrassment
that surpassed anything he had expected. "I'm afraid," and he made a
deprecatory gesture, "that I've made a deplorable mess of the whole
affair."
"You have," said Stirling. "As it happens, however, that's in your
favor. If you'd shown yourself a cleverer man in this matter, it might
have occurred to me that it was Miss Stirling's money that you had
your eyes on."
Weston turned and gazed at him with the blood in his forehead.
"I wish with all my heart that Miss Stirling's money were at the
bottom of the sea!" he said passionately. "There's just another thing
I have to say. I came to your house in a fit of desperation a little
while ago, so shaken by what I had just had to face that I was off my
guard. When I told Miss Stirling what I felt for her it was a
folly—but I did it—and I have no excuse to make."
Then, to Weston's astonishment, the contractor's manner changed
suddenly, and he leaned forward with a smile.
"Well," he said, "it's possible that she could find one or two for
you. But we have to face the situation. It seems that you love my
daughter, and there is reason for believing that she is fond of you. Now, Ida has been accustomed to every luxury, and the only thing you count on is a share in the Grenfell mine, which I guess you will admit may go under at any time. What do you propose to do?"