"No," he replied in a meaning tone; "I may want the place some day. Perhaps I'd better warn you that I haven't given up hope yet, in spite of my rebuff."
"I wish she'd taken you," Mowbray said frankly. "It would have been a relief to me; but I cannot influence her."
Glancing back at Beatrice, Brand was seized by a fit of passion. He was a strong, reserved man, who had cared little for women—he had, indeed, rather despised them. Now he had fallen in love at forty-two, and had been swept away. Hitherto he had generally lived up to a simple code of honor; but restraints were breaking down. He would have the girl, whatever it cost him or her. He knew the strength of his position. It might be necessary to exercise patience, but the odds were on his side.
"This is a matter I must fight out for myself," he said in a hard voice. "And I mean to win."
Mowbray looked at him in surprise. There was something new and overbearing in the man's expression which the Colonel resented, but he supposed he must make allowances.
"You have my good wishes," he said; "but you must understand that that's as far as I can go."
He moved away and soon afterward Brand joined Beatrice.
"I must congratulate you on your cheerfulness," he smiled. "You seem to cast a ray of brightness about the place to-night. It drew me. Being of a cold nature I felt I'd like to bask in the genial warmth."
Beatrice laughed.
"That sounds stilted; one doesn't expect such compliments from you."