She had never been able to do that with her father.

He had always leaned on her when schemes of economies were to be thought out, or details of their daily lives planned.

All this was changed now.

She had found Jack's heart wide open and had slipped inside, his strong will henceforth to be hers.
Still cuddling close, her head on his shoulder, her heart going out to him as she thought of the next morning and the task before him, she talked of their coming move to the mountains, and of the log-cabin for which Jack had already given orders; of the approaching autumn and winter and what they would make of it, and of dear daddy's plans and profits, and of how long they must wait before a larger log-cabin--one big enough for two--would be theirs for life--any and every topic which she thought would divert his mind--but Garry's ghost would not down.
"And what are you going to do first, my darling ?" she asked at last, finding that Jack answered only in monosyllables or remained silent altogether.
"I am going to see Uncle Arthur in the morning," he answered quickly, uncovering his brooding thoughts.

"It won't do any good, perhaps, but I will try it.