"The best of reasons; I have told her on more than one occasion. Still, I can't claim that she approves of me."
Had Harding made his proposal earlier, it would not have been entertained for a moment, but Mowbray had suffered during the last few days. He had found that it cost him more than he had expected to disregard his daughter's inclinations, and he shrank from doing so again. Then he owed much to Harding, who had behaved with somewhat surprising good taste. After all, if Beatrice were fond of him—Mowbray stopped here, feeling that the matter must be settled at once. He determined to confront the girl with Harding and learn the truth.
"I hope to give you an answer in a few minutes," he said, and left the room.
Somewhat to his surprise, Mrs. Mowbray agreed to his plan, and when he went back to his study he and Harding waited until Beatrice entered. She was highly strung but calm, though a trace of color crept into her face as she glanced at Harding.
"Gerald is safe," Mowbray told her. "Mr. Harding, who has acted very generously, has ensured that. Now he asks that I should allow you to marry him."
Beatrice look startled; her face grew dead-white and her expression strained.
"After what he has learned about us he is very rash. But this is not generosity!"
Mowbray stopped Harding, who would have spoken.
"I see that I did not make his meaning clear. He merely asks that I withdraw my objections, and not that I try to influence your decision. I am willing to do the former, but you must make your choice."
Beatrice gave Harding a swift, grateful look.