"He has done nothing of the sort," answered Sir George, growing more angry
every moment, but endeavoring to be calm. "Nothing of the sort. Many years
ago I spoke to him on this subject, which is very dear to my heart. The
project has been dear to me ever since you were a child. When I again
broached it to Malcolm a fortnight or more since I feared from his manner
that he was averse to the scheme. I had tried several times to speak to
him about it, but he warded me off, and when I did speak, I feared that he
was not inclined to it."

"Yes," interrupted the headstrong girl, apparently bent upon destroying
both of us. "He pretended that he did not wish to marry me. He said he
wished me to give a sham consent for the purpose of gaining time till we
might hit upon some plan by which we could change your mind. He said he
had no desire nor intention to marry me. It was but a poor, lame ruse on
his part."

During Dorothy's recital Sir George turned his face from her to me. When
she had finished speaking, he looked at me for a moment and said:--

"Does my daughter speak the truth? Did you say--"

"Yes," I promptly replied, "I have no intention of marrying your
daughter." Then hoping to place myself before Sir George in a better
light, I continued: "I could not accept the hand of a lady against her
will. I told you as much when we conversed on the subject."

"What?" exclaimed Sir George, furious with anger. "You too? You whom I
have befriended?"