"What is the use of choosing a ruler if he isn't to be obeyed?" she said haughtily.
"It sounds logical," Harding replied; "but it doesn't always work."
Beatrice was struggling hard with her wounded pride. Although on the whole broadminded, she had inherited some of the convictions of her caste; and, being the only daughter of the head of the settlement, she had been treated with more deference by the men at Allenwood than was perhaps good for her. It had cost her an effort to ask a favor from Harding, but she had not doubted the result, and his refusal was a shock. That the man who now proved obdurate had boldly shown his admiration for her, made it worse. Yet, because she believed her cause was good, she determined to disregard her injured feelings.
"If you persist in your plans, it will hurt Colonel Mowbray, and lead to dissention here," she argued. "Why must you try to bring in these changes? We have done very well as we are."
He rose and stood with his hand on a chair-back, looking steadily at her; and she noticed with half-grudging approval the strength of his figure and the resolution in his quiet, brown face.
"The trouble is that you can't continue as you are. Allenwood's threatened from outside, and I'm not sure it's safe within."
"Is that your business?"
The cold pride in her tone hurt, for it implied that she regarded him as an intruding stranger.
"In a way, yes; but we'll let that drop. If I could have pleased you by giving up a personal advantage, I'd have gladly done so; but this is a bigger thing. It isn't a matter of being content with a smaller crop; it's letting land that was meant to be worked lie idle, wasting useful effort, and trying to hold up a state of things that can't last. If I give way, I'll be going back on all I believe in and betraying a trust."
Beatrice laughed scornfully; and saw him wince.