The man loved her and was very eligible.

He only asked of her what most women are willing enough to give under circumstances so favourable to their well-being--herself.

But she never liked him, he had always repelled her, and she was not a woman to marry a man whom she did not like.
Also, during the last week this dislike and repulsion had hardened and strengthened.

Vaguely, as he pleaded with her, Beatrice wondered why, and as she did so her eye fell upon the pattern she was automatically pricking in the sand.

It had taken the form of letters, and the letters were G E O F F R E--Great heaven! Could that be the answer?
She flushed crimson with shame at the thought, and passed her foot across the tell-tale letters, as she believed, obliterating them.
Owen saw the softening of her eyes and saw the blush, and misinterpreted them.