"Have ye written to refuse?"
"No."
"Then I should advise ye to go, my lass."
"Why?"
"Unless ye want to have trouble with me," said he, grimly.
"But, uncle——"
"It's no good butting uncle," he replied. "If ye didna' mean to go, why did ye give young Prockter to understand as ye would go? I'll tell ye why ye changed your mind, lass. It's because you're ashamed o' being seen there with yer old uncle, and I'm sorry for it."
"Uncle!" she protested. "How can you say such a thing? You ought to know that no such idea ever entered my head."
He did know that no such idea had ever entered her head, and he was secretly puzzling for the real reason of her projected refusal. But, being determined that she should go, he had employed the surest and the least scrupulous means of achieving his end.
He tapped nervously on the table, and maintained the silence of the wounded and the proud.