"But why do you take such a risk? Doesn't it daunt you?"
He saw a gleam of sympathetic approval in her eyes. She had courage: it was in the blood of those who stood for lost causes. Suddenly swept off his feet, he determined to follow the lead she unconsciously had given him.
"Well," he said, leaning forward on the big plow, "I'll tell you."
He paused with a smile, for he saw that the position he accidentally had taken was unfortunate. He had associated himself with the machine which, in a sense, materialized the difference between her people and him. He did not change his position; instead, one hand moved caressingly over the clumsy plow while he spoke.
"One gets easily nothing that's worth having; it must be worked and schemed and fought for. I took the risk for you!"
Beatrice started and an indignant flush suffused her face. She was alarmed and angry, and yet the shock she felt was not surprise. He had once given her a plain warning, and she had continued to see him. Her traditions took arms against him, old prejudices revived, and her pride was wounded, but something in her turned traitor, and she felt a strange responsive thrill.
"You do not know what you are saying," she said haughtily, rising from the tool-box and turning toward a spot of bare ground where the dog was digging energetically. "Here, Banff!" Then, obeying some impulse which she did not understand, she added to Harding: "You scarcely know anything about me!"
"When I met you that night at the river and saw your face in the moonlight, I knew all that was needful."
The answer moved the girl. She wondered whether one could fall in love that way. But she must end the interview and escape from an embarrassing position.
"I am sorry our acquaintance has led to this; I would have prevented it if I could," she said. "And now, good-afternoon!"