“But I shall not permit it to take place. Do you think to ignore me in the matter?”
“Practically so. If you give your consent, I shall be glad for the sake of Marian, who will be gratified by it. But if you withhold it, we must dispense with it. By opposing us, you will simply—by making Marian’s home unbearable to her—precipitate the wedding.” Conolly, under the influence of having put the case neatly, here relaxed his manner so far as to rest his elbows on the table and look pleasantly at his visitor.
“Do you know to whom you are speaking?” said Mr. Lind, driven by rage and a growing fear of defeat into desperate self-assertion.
“I am speaking,” said Conolly with a smile, “to my future father-in-law.”
“I am a director of this company, of which you are the servant, as you shall find to your cost if you persist in holding insulting language to me.”
“If I found any director of this company allowing other than strictly business considerations to influence him at the Board, I should insist on his resigning.”
Mr. Lind looked at him severely, then indignantly, then unsteadily, without moving him in the least. At last he said, more humbly: “I hope you will not abuse your position, Mr. Conolly. I do not know whether you have sufficient influence over Marian to induce her to defy me; but however that may be, I appeal to your better feelings. Put yourself in my place. If you had an only daughter——”
“Excuse my interrupting you,” said Conolly, gently; “but that will not advance the argument unless you put yourself in mine. Besides, I am pledged to Marian. If she asks me to break off the match, I shall release her instantly.”
“You will bind yourself to do that?”
“I cannot help myself. I have no more power to make her marry me than you have to prevent her.”