"It will be better in a day or two," he continued, casting a longing
look towards the door--the first refuge of masculine weakness in an
impending domestic emergency. "I'll go and see what can be done," he
said feebly, with a sidelong impulse towards the opening and freedom.
"I've got to see Fairfax again to-night any way."

"One moment, father," said Christie, wearily. "Did you know anything of
this place and these--these people--before you came?"

"Certainly--of course I did," he returned, with the sudden testiness of
disturbed abstraction. "What are you thinking of? I knew the geological
strata and the--the report of Fairfax and his partners before I
consented to take charge of the works. And I can tell you that there is
a fortune here. I intend to make my own terms, and share in it."

"And not take a salary or some sum of money down?" said Christie, slowly
removing her bonnet in the same resigned way.

"I am not a hired man, or a workman, Christie," said her father sharply.
"You ought not to oblige me to remind you of that."

"But the hired men--the superintendent and his workmen--were the only
ones who ever got anything out of your last experience with Colonel
Waters at La Grange, and--and we at least lived among civilized people
there."

"These young men are not common people, Christie; even if they have
forgotten the restraints of speech and manners, they're gentlemen."