“I ain’t--haven’t said anything about it as I didn’t think it would be any sort of use, but Ora is going to Europe in the fall, and she told me Mark was going to try to persuade you to let me go with her. Now I can go on my thousand dollars, if you don’t mind. Mark wants you to stay with him.” “He spoke to me about it--I had forgotten. There couldn’t be a better arrangement. This is the time for you to go to Europe--while your mind is still plastic.” “You don’t seem to mind my going a little bit.” Rapture gave place to suspicion. Ida was not born with faith in man. “My dear child! What good am I to you now? You might be keeping house for a deaf mute. All I need is the right kind of food and a comfortable bed. I’ll get both at Mark’s. Next year you would see even less of me than you do now. We get our last and most practical drilling in ore-dressing, metallurgy, power-utilisation, and geology. We shall be off half the time on geological expeditions, visits to mines in other parts of the state, smelters, the most up-to-date of the cyanide mills. So you see how much I shall be at home. Go to Europe and enjoy yourself.” “All right. I’ll go. You bet. And I’ll not miss a trick. There’ll never be a thousand dollars better spent.” XIV “Now I’ve got you where I want you, and I’m goin’ to talk--goin’ to say something I’ve been dyin’ to say for two or three years.” Ora’s head was in the wash-basin. Miss Miller was leisurely spraying out the lime juice with which she had drenched her hair. Ora gasped, then gurgled something unintelligible, which Miss Ruby interpreted as encouragement to proceed. Mrs. Blake’s manner ever since the hairdresser’s arrival had been uncommonly winning, with something half-appealing, half-confiding that flew straight not only to that experienced young woman’s sympathies but to her professional instinct.