reflectively. "Worth her weight in gold," he murmured with a sort of
ecstasy in his voice.

Young Ten Eyck assumed an injured air. "I am poor, General Gamble, but
I am NOT blind."

"She likes you," went on the older man, revelling in the new-found
hope. "You don't amount to much,--and she knows it, I suppose,--but
you can have her, my boy. She'll be the richest girl in Essex when I
die. Take her, my boy; I gladly give my consent. Will you permit me to
congratu--"

"One moment, if you please. In a case like this, you would NEVER die.
It would be just my luck. No, I thank you. I decline the honour. If
you could perform a miracle and transform her into REAL gold, I might
consider the proposition, but not as it now stands."

"She weighs about one-eighty," said the General speculatively.

Eddie glanced at him sharply. "One hundred and eighty pounds in gold.
Quite a pile, eh?"

The General was silent for a long time, permitting the vague idea to
thrive in his harassed mind. His young companion was moodily trying to
estimate the value of one hundred and eighty pounds of virgin gold.

At last the General reached a conclusion. It was a rather heroic
effort. He relighted his cigar with trembling fingers.

"I suppose you haven't heard of the wedding present I intend to bestow