“I have fixed things and imagine you’ll approve,” he said, as she gave him her hand.

“That’s a relief,” George remarked.  “We’ll talk about it when we’ve got some supper.”

Scott laughed.  “I think we’ll call it dinner to-night.  I’m suffering from a natural reaction after our Spartan habits at the mine, and believe the occasion indicates the Place Viger.  In fact, I telegraphed about a table and rooms.”

They drove across the city, and Agatha looked about with some amusement and curiosity as she ate her dinner among wealthy English and American tourists in the big dining-room.  George had taken her to a hotel of another kind that catered for small business men, but she hoped Scott’s fastidious choice of the wines and the late flowers he had ordered were justified.  As she studied some of the other women’s clothes and contrasted them with hers, he looked up with a twinkle.

“It’s obvious that Toronto can hold its own with London, Paris, and New York,” he said.  “However, if you’re fond of diamonds and such ornaments, there’s no reason you should exercise much self-denial.”

“I don’t know if I’m fond of diamonds or not.  I have never had any,” Agatha replied.

“Well, they’re quite unnecessary, but you’ll soon be able to have them if you like.  Your brother is plainly cautious; it will be your privilege to enlarge his views.”

George smiled rather grimly.  “Agatha and I were brought up in a shabby frame house behind a store and learned to think of cents instead of dollars.  Our father made some sacrifice to start us well; I know what it cost him now.”

“Perhaps we had better tell Miss Strange what we have done.  When they have brought us our coffee we’ll find a quiet place where we can talk.”

Some minutes later they sat down at a small table:  behind a pillar in a spacious room, and Scott took out a bundle of documents.

“This is the first meeting of the Agatha Mine Company, and it’s proper that Miss Strange should be our chairman.  To begin with, we must appoint executive officials and the president comes first.  I think the place belongs to Mr. Strange.”

“No,” said George, “the treasurer’s my job.  You want a business man to keep a tight hand on the money.”

They looked at Agatha, who made a sign of agreement.  “Mr. Scott will be president.”

“Very well.  The next is the general manager.  Thirlwell’s the best man I know.”

“I appointed him some time since,” Agatha replied.  “It’s his post as long as he likes, and he ought to be paid better than anybody else.”

George glanced humorously at Scott.  Agatha’s manner was imperious and her voice resolute.  It looked is if she meant to use her new authority.  Scott nodded and gave her a document.