Strictly business, you see. If he had been pulling off a deal with another man and somebody like this Sam Marks had put in an oar, this was about how John Ryder would have handled the situation. She must choose at once between Marks and him--between the position she would gain by wedding him, and possible success upon the vaudeville stage. Had the ideas expressed in the note not been clothed in the kindest terms and had not a strong current of downright love permeated it, any woman might have taken umbrage. Ryder knew he had said nothing that could offend. Therefore, he was the more surprised that no response to his letter was brought to him. He remained away from the general table at dinner that last night purposely. He did not wish to meet Miss Mont again until he knew exactly what her answer was to be. The evening passed without his receiving any reply. In the morning as they swung into the dock at an early hour he asked the steward if there was any message for him and received a negative answer. He had made his declaration and waited with his repacked bag until most of the passengers, he was certain, had gone ashore. Until the last moment, when he came to the gangway, he hoped to get some reply from her. Or was she waiting for him to tell him verbally her answer? She was! There she stood upon the dock as he went down the gangplank. She was looking eagerly toward the ship. Ryder felt a sudden tingling warmth at his heart. His love for this girl, so strangely born, made his pulse go at a gallop and brought a flush into his sea-tanned face. She saw him, and the faint flicker of a dawning smile overspread her sweet countenance. He approached with outstretched hand, his heart in his eyes--an expression that no woman could mistake. It told her--that look--as plainly as though he cried it aloud: "I love you!" The girl put out her hand--both her hands indeed--impulsively and met his grasp with one quite as warm. Her eyes searched his face, perhaps with a puzzled expression at first when he approached; but afterward with decided approval. "What have you to say to me, my dear?" asked John Ryder, strong in his belief that she could have only waited for him with good news. A blush suffused her face. Her lips parted--parted in such a shy and lovely smile--as she said in a low voice: "I--I will marry you." "Good!" he almost shouted, and immediately added: "When?" "Whenever you like," she whispered, and no woman since the world began ever gave herself so completely into her lover's keeping, John Ryder was sure, as did this woman whom he loved.