"I have formed an attachment, sir. I am engaged to be married," she replied with the calmness of fright.
"Married!" ejaculated Sir Malcolm. "Engaged without having consulted me! Nonsense; you mean to tell me—" He paused. "But this is monstrous." He got up, walked up and down the room. Meg watched him in silence, astonished at what seemed to her an extraordinary outburst of emotion. After a few moments Sir Malcolm regained his composure, and sitting down again said in a constrained, business-like tone, "You will admit that, at least, as your guardian, I should have been told of this before. To whom are you engaged?"
She hesitated under the influence of a gaze, the keenness of which stopped confidence at its source.
"To one who was very good to me in my childhood. When no one else cared for me he was my only friend."
"Have you corresponded with him ever since your childhood?"
"No, sir; I met him here. I had lost sight of him for years."
"Is he of low birth?" asked the baronet with frigid brusqueness.
"No, sir. But if he were—" She paused and looked at the old man with a glance steady as his own.
"I understand. You assert your right to marry who you will—clodhopper or landowner. Perhaps, however, you will admit, as I observed just now, that as your guardian I am justified in asking questions about this young man?"