“That is so like a girl,” said he. “You are carried away by your sympathies of the moment. You do not wait to reason out any question.”
“I dare say you are right,” said she, smiling. “Our conscience is not susceptible of those political influences to which you referred just now.”
“‘They are dangerous guides—the feelings’,” said he, “at least from a standpoint of politics.”
“But there are, thank God, other standpoints in the world from which humanity may be viewed,” said she.
“There are,” said he. “And I also join with you in saying, ‘thank God!’ Do you fancy that I am here to-day—that I have been here so frequently during the past two months, from a political motive, Beatrice?”
“I cannot tell,” she replied. “Have you not just said that the feelings are dangerous guides?”
“They lead one into danger,” said he. “There can be no doubt about that.”
“Have you ever allowed them to lead you?” she asked, with another smile.
“Only once, and that is now,” said he. “With you I have thrown away every guide but my feelings. A few months ago I could not have believed it possible that I should do so. But with God and Woman all things are possible. That is why I am here to-day to ask you if you think it possible that you could marry me.”
She had risen to her feet, not by a sudden impulse, but slowly. She was not looking at him. Her eyes were fixed upon some imaginary point beyond him. She was plainly under the influence of some very strong feeling. A full minute had passed before she said, “You should not have come to me with that request, Mr. Airey.