"I'm _not_ heartless," she said, "but I'm going to keep on forgetting all the times when there was anybody but you. I expect most girls do a lot of shilly-shallying before they are sure of themselves." "And you are really sure of yourself?" "Yes, Wilmot, if I'm sure of you." "The first thing," he said, "is to look into these mining properties we've fallen heir to. West wasn't the kind of man to be easily fooled; at the same time I myself have learned something about mines." "For instance?" Her face was very mischievous. "Well," he said, "for instance, I have learned that there are mines _and_ mines. And you know, Barbs dear, I'm not eligible yet. I owe money, I haven't made good at anything, and I've got to--first of all. Haven't I?" "Are you going to sit right there and tell me that we're not to be married until you've paid your debts and made a fortune? Where do I come in? What life have I to lead except yours? If you are in debt, so am I. If you've got to dig holes in the ground, so have I. Whatever has got to be done, we've got to do it together. So much is clear. Of course it would be _easier_ for you!" A little later he asked her what she was going to do with her head of Blizzard. "Nothing," she said. "If it is good enough, it will survive these troubled times. If it isn't, somebody will break it up." "Are you through with art?" "What have I to do with art?" she said. "I'm in love. I used to think that women ought to have professions and all. But there's only one thing that a woman can do supremely well--and that's to make a home for a man. That will take all that she has in her of art and heart and ambition and delicacy. Of course if a girl is denied the opportunity of making a home, she can paint and sculp and thump the piano and get her name in the papers. What I want to know is--when do _we_ start West?" "You've offered to take me just as I am, with all my encumbrances, and to help me fight things through to a good finish. And I think that is pure folly on your part. But there's going to be no more folly on mine. I'm going to be a fool. Barbs--come here!" He held out his arms, and she threw herself into them. "Is to-morrow too soon, Barbs?" "We could hardly arrange things sooner, but to my mind to-morrow is not nearly soon enough." "What will your father say?" "Why, if he's the father I think he is he'll bless us and wish us good luck. There'll be an awful lot to do. Hadn't we better jump into a car, run over to Greenwich, and get married? That will be just so much off our minds." LII