"My father, going south on a holiday, met my mother and gave up his post
when they were married. She had a little money, enough to open a small
store, and for her sake he started business in a new wooden town. He did
not like the towns, and I know when I got older that he often longed for
the wild North, but although the place grew and the business prospered,
he could not spare the time and money to look for the lode. He wanted to
give my brother a good education and start him well, and after a time I
was sent to a university."

"That explains something," Thirlwell remarked, and then pulling himself
up, added: "If you take proper appliances, a prospecting expedition
costs much. But did your father often talk about the lode?"

"No; not unless it was to me."

"But why did he tell you and not your brother?"

"George was very practical; I was romantic and my father something of a
dreamer. We lived happily at home, but I felt that he needed sympathy
that he did not get. I think now my mother knew he longed for the North,
and was afraid the longing might grow too strong and draw him back. When
he did speak of the silver she smiled. I suppose when you have known the
wilderness its charm is strong?"

She stopped and her face was gravely thoughtful as she looked across the
shining water towards the faint blur of a pine forest on a distant
point, and Thirlwell felt as if they had been suddenly united by a bond
of understanding.