"I suppose I was fired by your father's example, and wished to find
a gold mine."

"Men like you never do," she said, simply.

"Is that a compliment, Miss Mulrady?"

"I don't know. But I think that you think that it is."

He gave her the pleased look of one who had unexpectedly found a
sympathetic intelligence. "Do I? This is interesting. Let's sit
down." In their desultory rambling they had reached, quite
unconsciously, the large boulder at the roadside. Mamie hesitated
a moment, looked up and down the road, and then, with an already
opulent indifference to the damaging of her spotless skirt, sat
herself upon it, with her furled parasol held by her two little
hands thrown over her half-drawn-up knee. The young editor, half
sitting, half leaning, against the stone, began to draw figures in
the sand with his cane.

"On the contrary, Miss Mulrady, I hope to make some money here.
You are leaving Rough-and-Ready because you are rich. We are
coming to it because we are poor."

"We?" echoed Mamie, lazily, looking up the road.

"Yes. My father and two sisters."

"I am sorry. I might have known them if I hadn't been going away."