"What nonsense this is, Barbara," he said. "With any one else I would chuck the whole game, but with you it is different. I don't know what I have done, but I am sorry. I hope you'll forgive me."
"Your assurance is amusing, to say the least."
"But I am sure. I know this quarrel is something we'll laugh over. You keep forgetting that we are going to be married some day."
A new light came into Barbara's eyes. "You forget that my consent may be necessary," she said.
"You will be perfectly willing when the time comes. I am still in the fight and eventually you will come to my way of thinking."
"Oh! I see it now," said Barbara, and her blood was up. "You mean to force me to it. What you did for father—"
Brewster glowered at her, thinking that he had misunderstood. "What do you mean?" he said.
"He has told me all about that wretched bank business. But poor father thought you quite disinterested. He did not see the little game behind your melodrama. He would have torn up your check on the instant if he had suspected you were trying to buy his daughter."
"Does your father believe that?" asked Brewster.
"No, but I see it all now. His persistence and yours—you were not slow to grasp the opportunity offered."