George had got promises of some support, but much depended on the result of Scott's visit to his wealthy friends.
It was dark when they walked up and down outside the platform gates; the train was late, and Agatha tried to control her nervous impatience.

She could trust George's judgment about money matters and she liked Scott, but she had got a habit of looking to Thirlwell when difficulties must be met, and he could not help her now.

He was in the North, where winter would soon begin, doing her work with drill and giant powder.

It was good work that demanded strength and courage and knowledge of Nature's laws; she would have liked to have been there with him, instead of in the city where one must grapple with commercial subtleties.
By and by a bell tolled, there was a harsh rattle as the cars rolled in, and a few moments later Scott pushed through the crowd at the gate.
Agatha went to meet him under a big lamp and saw by his look that he had been successful.
"I have fixed things and imagine you'll approve," he said, as she gave him her hand.
"That's a relief," George remarked.

"We'll talk about it when we've got some supper." Scott laughed.