She hated the idea of this scene. She knew that when
it did come there would be a scene. Not that her resolution to refuse
the man had ever faltered. But it would be painful, and in the end it
must reach the ears of her father and Elizabeth that she had actually
rejected Mr. Owen Davies, and then what would her life be worth? She had
never suspected it, it had never entered into her mind to suspect, that,
though her father might be vexed enough, nothing on this earth would
more delight the heart of Elizabeth.
Presently, having fetched her hat, Beatrice, accompanied by her admirer,
bearing the Life of Darwin under his arm, started to walk down to the
beach. They went in silence, Beatrice just a little ahead. She ventured
some remark about the weather, but Owen Davies made no reply; he was
thinking, he wanted to say something, but he did not know how to say
it. They were at the head of the cliff now, and if he wished to speak he
must do so quickly.
"Miss Beatrice," he said in a somewhat constrained voice.
"Yes, Mr. Davies--oh, look at that seagull; it nearly knocked my hat
off.
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