"Yes, that is against him, and the fact that he is always _in_ America.
He appears to be afraid to get out."

"He's the bravest boy in the world," she replied, her face still to the
window. "He risked his life to drag me from under the ice," she added,
with a girl's loyalty to her hero and a woman's pride in the man she
loves.

"Well, I must own he has nerve," her father added, "or he never would
have accepted my conditions."

"And what where these conditions, pray?" the young woman asked, turning
and facing her father, who sat watching her every move and gesture.

"First of all, he must do something; and do it off his own bat. His old
father spent his last dollar to educate this young rascal, to equip him
for the battle of life, and his sole achievement is a curve that nobody
can find. Now I insist he shall do something, and I have given him five
years for the work."

"Five years!" she gasped, as she lost herself in a big chair.

"He is to have time to forget you, and you are to have ample opportunity
to forget him, which you will doubtless do, for you are not to meet or
communicate with each other during this period of probation."

"Did he promise this?"

"Upon his honor."