“I am quite aware of my daughter’s personal advantages.  They are additional reasons against her contracting an imprudent marriage.”

“Precisely.  But in what respect would her marriage with me be imprudent?  I possess actual competence, and a prospect of wealth.  I come of a long lived and healthy family.  My name is, beyond comparison, more widely known than yours. [Mr. Lind recoiled].  I now find myself everywhere treated with a certain degree of consideration, which an alliance with your daughter will not diminish.”

“In fact, you are conferring a great honor on my family by condescending to marry into it?”

“I dont understand that way of looking at things, Mr. Lind; and so I leave you to settle the question of honor as you please.  But you must not condemn me for putting my position in the best possible light in order to reconcile you to an inevitable fact.”

“What do you mean by an inevitable fact, sir?”

“My marriage, of course.  I assure you that it will take place.”

“But I shall not permit it to take place.  Do you think to ignore me in the matter?”

“Practically so.  If you give your consent, I shall be glad for the sake of Marian, who will be gratified by it.  But if you withhold it, we must dispense with it.  By opposing us, you will simply—­by making Marian’s home unbearable to her—­precipitate the wedding.”  Conolly, under the influence of having put the case neatly, here relaxed his manner so far as to rest his elbows on the table and look pleasantly at his visitor.

“Do you know to whom you are speaking?” said Mr. Lind, driven by rage and a growing fear of defeat into desperate self-assertion.

“I am speaking,” said Conolly with a smile, “to my future father-in-law.”

“I am a director of this company, of which you are the servant, as you shall find to your cost if you persist in holding insulting language to me.”

“If I found any director of this company allowing other than strictly business considerations to influence him at the Board, I should insist on his resigning.”

Mr. Lind looked at him severely, then indignantly, then unsteadily, without moving him in the least.  At last he said, more humbly:  “I hope you will not abuse your position, Mr. Conolly.  I do not know whether you have sufficient influence over Marian to induce her to defy me; but however that may be, I appeal to your better feelings.  Put yourself in my place.  If you had an only daughter——­”

“Excuse my interrupting you,” said Conolly, gently; “but that will not advance the argument unless you put yourself in mine.  Besides, I am pledged to Marian.  If she asks me to break off the match, I shall release her instantly.”

“You will bind yourself to do that?”

“I cannot help myself.  I have no more power to make her marry me than you have to prevent her.”

“I have the authority of a parent.  And I must tell you, Mr. Conolly, that it will be my duty to enlighten my poor child as to the effect a union with you must have on her social position.  You have made the most of your celebrity and your prospects.  She may be dazzled for the moment; but her good sense will come to the rescue yet, I am convinced.”