But Boyd clung to his point with a stubbornness which he himself found it difficult to explain. The arguments of the others only annoyed him. The walk to Cherry's hotel afforded him time for reflection which, while it deepened his doubt, somewhat lessened his impatience, and when he was shown into her presence he did not begin in the impetuous manner he had designed. A certain hesitation and dread of the truth mastered him, and, moreover, the girl's appearance dismayed him. She seemed almost ill. She was listless and fagged. Upon his announcement of the good news, she only smiled wearily, and said: "I told you not to give up. The unexpected always happens." "And was it unexpected--to you?" he asked, awkwardly. "What happens is nearly always unexpected--when it's good." "Not to the one who brings it about." "What makes you think I had anything to do with it?" "You were with Hilliard last night." She nodded slightly, "We closed our negotiations for the copper-mine last night." "How did you come out?" "He takes it over, and does the development work," she answered. "That means that you are independent; that you can leave the North Country and do all the things you want to do?" This time her smile was puzzling. "You don't seem very glad!" "No! Realization discounts anticipation about ninety per cent but don't let's talk about me. I--I'm unstrung to-day." "I'm sorry you aren't going back to Kalvik," he said, with genuine regret. "But I am," she declared, quickly. "I'm going back with you and George if you will let me. I want to see the finish of our enterprise." "See here, Cherry, I hope you didn't influence Hilliard in this affair?" "Why probe the matter?" "Because I haven't lost all my manhood," he answered, roughly. "Yesterday you assumed the blame for this trouble, and spoke of sacrifices--and--well, I don't know much about women; but for all I know, you may have some ridiculous, quixotic strain in your make-up. I hope you didn't--" "What?" "Well, do anything you may be sorry for." At last he detected a gleam of spirit in her eyes. "Suppose I did. What difference to you would that make?" He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "Suppose that Mr. Hilliard had called on me for some great sacrifice before he gave up that money. Would you allow it to affect you?" "Of course," he answered. Then, unable to sit still under her searching gaze, he arose with flushed face, to meet further discomfiture as she continued: "Even if it meant your own ruin, the loss of the fortune you have raised among your friends--money that is entrusted to you--and--and the relinquishment of Miss Wayland? Honestly, now"--her voice had softened and dropped to a lower key--"would it make any difference?" "Certainly!" "How much difference?" "I'm in a very embarrassing position," he said, slowly. "You must realize that with others depending on me I'm not free to follow my own inclinations."