Part 19 (1/2)
”No,” he replied, ”I can't let you do that. Not yet, anyhow. Mr. Wayland is right, in a way. If he had not been so decent I would have married you anyhow, but I am indebted to him. He has shown me a lot more of your life than I knew before, and he has made his word good. I am going to ask you to wait, however; for quite a while, it may be. I am going to take a gambler's chance.”
”What is it?”
”A gold strike has been made in Alaska--”
”Alaska!”
”Yes! The Klondike. You have read of it? I am told that the chances there are like those in the days of '49, and I am going.”
So it was that he had made his choice, fixing his own time for returning, and so it was that Mildred Wayland had awaited him.
If to-day, after three years of deprivation, she seemed to him more beautiful than ever--the interval having served merely to enhance her charm and strengthen the yearning of his heart--she seemed in the same view still further removed from his sphere. More reserved, more dignified, in the reserve of developed womanhood, her cession was the more gracious and wonderful.
His story finished, Boyd went on to tell her vaguely of his future plans, and at the last he asked her, with something less than an accepted lover's confidence:
”Will you wait another year?”
She laughed lightly. ”You dear boy, I am not up for auction. This is not the 'third and last call.' I am not sure I could induce anybody to take me, even if I desired.”
”I read the rumor of your engagement in a back number of a San Francisco paper. Is your retinue as large as ever?”
She smiled indifferently. ”It alters with the season, but I believe the general average is about the same. You know most of them.” She mentioned a number of names, counting them off on her finger-tips. ”Then, of course, there are the old standbys, Mr. Macklin, Tommy Turner, the Lawton boys--”
”And Alton Clyde!”
”To be sure; little Alton, like the brook, runs on forever. He still wors.h.i.+ps you, Boyd, by the way.”
”And there are others?”
”A few.”
”Who?”
”n.o.body you know.”
”Any one in particular?” Boyd demanded, with a lover's insistence.
Miss Wayland's hesitation was so brief as almost to escape his notice.
”n.o.body who counts. Of course, father has his predilections and insists upon engineering my affairs in the same way he would float a railroad enterprise, but you can imagine how romantic the result is.”
”Who is the favored party?” the young man asked, darkly. But she arose to push back the heavy draperies and gaze for a moment out into the deepening twilight. When she answered, it was in a tone of ordinary indifference.
”Really it isn't worth discussing. I shall not marry until I am ready, and the subject bores me.” An instant later she turned to regard him with direct eyes.
”Do you remember when I offered to give it all up and go with you, Boyd?”
”I have never forgotten for an instant,”
”You refused to allow it.”
”Certainly! I had seen too much of your life, and my pride figured a bit, also.”