"To-morrow you must come and see the mine. I am in two minds about taking this house. Dick Muir and his daughter advised me against it. They want me to remain on with them indefinitely, or else build on a site which Dick can let me have, but I don't care about doing that. I would rather take rooms in the village where Godwin was. I don't feel like starting another house just yet. The mine is a speculation. I may lose all my money over it." "And then you would be a pauper like me," said Gentian cheerfully; "I wonder how you would like that." "I have gone through poverty, child." "Yes, I forgot. Forgive me. And I hope with all my heart that your mine will succeed. I think I would take the house, Cousin Thor, and then you could invite Mrs. Wharnecliffe and me down to visit you. I would like to come alone best, but Mrs. Wharnecliffe won't let me hint at such a thing! I can't fancy you in lodgings; you've always had a nice home. I only wish I could get the chance of having one." Then she stole a look at him through her long eyelashes. "I heard from Jim Paget the other day. He's been over the Rocky Mountains and now is on his way home. He would give me a home, any day. I might do worse than have him, but I'm afraid we should fight like cat and dog. Still, I would have a house of my own, and I should love furnishing it and arranging rooms." "Don't marry for a home," said Thorold gravely. "The man must come first. You would have a miserable life if you did not care for your husband." "Do you think so? It's a funny world. Things happen so contrary. He likes me, and I don't like him, and yet I may meet somebody else whom I shall like and he won't like me. I somehow feel as if I shall never have just what I want. And I think I'm getting dull and old, and I shan't be at all likeable when my teeth and hair fall out." Thorold threw his head back with his quick laugh, as he did when she amused him. "Cheer up, you are not so very ancient yet." "Tell me truthfully, do you think I shall make any man a bad wife?" Thorold turned to her. Something in his eyes made Gentian catch her breath. He was about to speak, when round the corner of the shrubbery path appeared Miss Frances Muir. She greeted them delightedly. "Here you are! I've been scouring the village for you, for I heard Mrs. Wharnecliffe, your friend, had returned to the inn. How do you do, Miss Brendon? We met in Edinburgh, didn't we? How are your old ladies? I thought them so quaint, especially the horsey one." "They are quite well, thank you." Gentian's tone was stiff; she resented the Miss Buchans being criticized. "Now, Mr. Holt, you must come home at once. Your manager is at our house waiting to see you. It's something about the mine, some of the machinery has gone wrong."