I should like to say it
before the whole world; to cry it from the mountain tops."
Elizabeth glared at him fiercely--glared first at him and then at the
innocent Beatrice. Could he be going to propose to her, then? Ah, why
had she hesitated? Why had she not told him the whole truth before?
But the heart of Beatrice, who sat momentarily expecting to be publicly
denounced, grew ever fainter. The waters of desolation were closing in
over her soul.
Mr. Granger sat down firmly and worked himself into the seat of his
chair, as though to secure an additional fixedness of tenure. Elizabeth
set her teeth, and leaned her elbow on the table, holding her hand so as
to shade her face. Beatrice drooped upon her seat like a fading lily, or
a prisoner in the dock. She was opposite to them, and Owen Davies, his
face alight with wild enthusiasm, stood up and addressed them all like
the counsel for the prosecution.
"Last autumn," he began, speaking to Mr. Granger, who might have been
a judge uncertain as to the merits of the case, "I asked your daughter
Beatrice to marry me."
Beatrice gave a sigh, and collected her scattered energies.
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