"And I the daughter of another," Beatrice answered with a smile. "That could make no difference, Craig; and we're not ruined yet. Still, because I was hard and unjust at first, I should like you to remember that I came to you when you were in trouble, and didn't ask whether you were innocent or not."
"I'll remember it," said Harding, "as long as I live."
When they reached the house, Mowbray and his wife were sitting on the veranda, and Lance came down the steps to meet them with his hand held out. Neither spoke, but Harding was touched by the sincerity of his welcome.
Beatrice ran up the steps to her mother, and Harding, after a word of greeting turned away. He felt that, until he had cleared himself, it would be more becoming in him to keep away from the Colonel and Mrs. Mowbray.
The next morning Mowbray called Beatrice into his study.
"I am glad that your confidence in Harding has returned," he said. "You must, however, understand that the situation is still awkward."
"Yes; Craig and I talked it over last night."
"You talked this matter over!" Mowbray exclaimed.
"Of course," said Beatrice calmly. "It's of some importance to me. Are you surprised?"
"I must admit that I am. When I was young, a well-brought-up girl would hardly have ventured to mention such subjects to her mother, much less discuss them with her lover."