Part 43 (2/2)
Beatrice gave Harding a swift, grateful look.
”I am sorry I misunderstood. I should have known you better,” she said in a very low voice.
Then she was silent for a moment, with downcast eyes, and the two men waited tensely. When she looked up her eyes glistened with tears; but behind the tears there shone a great happiness.
”It is not hard to decide,” she murmured, reaching her hand out timidly toward Harding.
He grasped it eagerly, and Mowbray forced himself to smile. In spite of the Colonel's prejudices, he felt that his daughter's quiet confidence in the prairie man was justified.
”I sincerely wish you well,” he said. He laid one hand on Harding's arm, and there was a tremor in his voice as he continued: ”We have not agreed on many points, but I have learned that you can be trusted. I am glad to remember it now.”
”Thank you, sir,” said Harding. ”I know the value of what you have given me.”
After a few more words Mowbray let them go, and when they sat together on the large black settle in a corner of the hall, the girl was conscious of a calm tenderness for her lover that was stronger than anything she had yet felt.
”Craig,” she said softly, ”I wasn't brave enough when you first urged me, but the hesitation I then felt has gone, and I am ashamed of it. I know that I am safe with you.”
”Thank you for that,” he answered and his face grew compa.s.sionate. ”But you look very tired and distressed.”
”I am tired--but I'm happy.” A faint flush tinted her cheeks and she smiled shyly. ”The last few days have been very trying, Craig; and when there seemed to be no way out, then I knew that I wanted you. Now I am still half dazed; my escape seems so wonderful!”
”I know,” Harding said gently. ”I was sorry for you all. It must have been hard for your father, but one can see his point of view. You must forget about it, dear. I am starting for Winnipeg to-morrow, and may be there a week. You will have time to get used to things before I come back.”
”You are very considerate, and even kinder than I thought.”
He smiled into her eyes.
”I am going to leave you now, because I feel that I ought to. But you know I want to stay!”
He lifted the hand she gave him and kissed it tenderly. Then a swift flood surged through him.
”Beatrice!” he breathed. ”Oh, Beatrice! You don't know what it means to me!”
The little fingers were nearly crushed in his strong grasp; but he released them quickly and turned away.
”Good-by, dear!” he said.
Beatrice let him go, but her look was strangely tender and her heart beat fast. He had shown a fine unselfishness, and a tact that was perhaps remarkable. She had no hesitation about him now.
CHAPTER XXV
THE REBUFF
Harding spent a busy week in Winnipeg, carrying out a scheme he had agreed upon with Broadwood, Kenwyne, and one or two others, though he feared it would again bring him into conflict with Colonel Mowbray. He regretted this, but he could not allow it to influence him. Allenwood, in which he now had a strong interest, must not be allowed to suffer because of the Colonel's old-fas.h.i.+oned opinions. Harding saw what ought to be done; and he felt that to leave it undone, in order to save himself trouble, would be weak and, in a sense, treacherous to those who now looked to him for a lead. He could not act against his convictions; he must do what he thought best, and take the consequences.
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