Forel made no answer, but he fancied that his client would have been contented had she seen how Alton seemed to shake off the grim hopelessness that had been too apparent through all his resolution.

It was with a lighter heart that Alton went away, and having little leisure or inclination for company, he did not go back to his friend’s house until the evening of Mrs. Forel’s return.  The sun had dipped behind the pines when he reached it, and Forel and his wife sat with Alice Deringham upon the verandah, for which the girl was grateful, because the presence of others rendered their conventional greetings easier, and she at once shrank from and desired an interview with Alton alone.  By and by it, however, happened that Forel, who may have received a warning from his wife, remembered that he had some business to attend to, while Mrs. Forel went away, as she explained, to instruct the Chinese cook, and Alice Deringham was left face to face with a task that now appeared almost impossible.  She could not commence it directly.

“And now I want you to tell me all about Somasco,” she said.

Alton leaned with his back against a pillar looking down on her, and the girl, who lay in a long chair, wished that she had chosen a position where the light did not fall so directly upon her.  That was in one respect curious, because she had taken considerable pains with her toilet, and knew that the sweeping lines of the long black dress became her.  Its sombreness also emphasized the ivory whiteness of her neck and hands, while the pallor and weariness of her face awoke a tenderness that was far more than pity in the man.  He caught the glint of the lustrous red-gold hair as she moved her head a trifle, and then turned his eyes away with a little restless movement that did not escape his companion.

“We may hold the mine after all,” he said.

“Yes?” said Alice Deringham, with an evident eagerness which puzzled him.  “That is very good news.  And your other difficulties?  You see, I made Mr. Forel talk about them occasionally.”

The interest that this implied was not lost upon the man, but he glanced away again.

“They are less than they were,” he said gravely.  “Still, I don’t know that you would care to hear about these things.”

“That is not very friendly,” said Alice Deringham, with a little smile.

Alton glanced down at her in swift surprise, and then his face became a mask again.  “Well,” he said slowly, “when I think we would have been beaten without it, somebody lent us enough dollars to carry us through.  It sounds very simple, but it has made a new man of me.  To have dragged down all the men who trusted me would have hurt me horribly.”

“And this loan or whatever it is will prevent that happening?  It was opportune?”

“Yes,” and a little glow came into Alton’s eyes.  “It was very opportune.”

“You were not so laconic at the ranch,” said the girl, who smiled at him.  “Once upon a time you would tell me all about your plans.”