Do you know, I feel wild to-day." "And so do I," replied Kathleen, suddenly waking to life.

"It is the wonderful air, or the motor, perhaps." "Me, too," exclaimed Jack Romayne, looking straight at her, "only with me it is not the air, nor the motor." "What then!" said Kathleen with a swift, shy look at him.
"'The heart knoweth its own bitterness and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy.'" "That's the Bible, I know," said Kathleen, "and it really means 'mind your own business.'" "No, no, not that exactly," protested Jack, "rather that there are things in the heart too deep if not for tears most certainly for words.
You can guess what I mean, Miss Kathleen," said Jack, trying to get her eyes.
"Oh, yes," said the girl, "there are things that we cannot trust to words, no, not for all the world." "I know what you are thinking of," replied Jack.

"Let me guess." "No, no, you must not, indeed," she replied quickly.

"Look, isn't that the mine?
What a crowd of people! Do look." Out in the valley before them they could see a procession of teams and men weaving rhythmic figures about what was discovered to be upon a nearer view a roadway which was being constructed to cross a little coolee so as to give access to the black hole on the hillside beyond which was the coal mine.

In the noise and bustle of the work the motor came to a stop unobserved behind a long wooden structure which Nora diagnosed as the "grub shack." "In your English speech, Mr.Romayne, the dining room of the camp.