"I am sorry I misunderstood. I should have known you better," she said in a very low voice.
Then she was silent for a moment, with downcast eyes, and the two men waited tensely. When she looked up her eyes glistened with tears; but behind the tears there shone a great happiness.
"It is not hard to decide," she murmured, reaching her hand out timidly toward Harding.
He grasped it eagerly, and Mowbray forced himself to smile. In spite of the Colonel's prejudices, he felt that his daughter's quiet confidence in the prairie man was justified.
"I sincerely wish you well," he said. He laid one hand on Harding's arm, and there was a tremor in his voice as he continued: "We have not agreed on many points, but I have learned that you can be trusted. I am glad to remember it now."
"Thank you, sir," said Harding. "I know the value of what you have given me."
After a few more words Mowbray let them go, and when they sat together on the large black settle in a corner of the hall, the girl was conscious of a calm tenderness for her lover that was stronger than anything she had yet felt.
"Craig," she said softly, "I wasn't brave enough when you first urged me, but the hesitation I then felt has gone, and I am ashamed of it. I know that I am safe with you."
"Thank you for that," he answered and his face grew compassionate. "But you look very tired and distressed."
"I am tired—but I'm happy." A faint flush tinted her cheeks and she smiled shyly. "The last few days have been very trying, Craig; and when there seemed to be no way out, then I knew that I wanted you. Now I am still half dazed; my escape seems so wonderful!"