Melville was on his guard at once. Acquiring information was one thing, imparting it another. If Sir Ross did not know, Mrs. Sinclair must have had her reasons for not telling him, and Melville was no marplot; he preferred to stand in.
"I am related to her by marriage," he answered vaguely.
"I knew the late Mr. Sinclair intimately," Sir Ross replied, "and I never heard of any relations of his named Ashley. However, it doesn't affect my point."
"I've a shocking memory for dates," Melville said. "How long is it actually since Mr. Sinclair died?"
"He died on Jubilee Day," Sir Ross answered shortly. "Mr. Ashley, I've been quite frank with you, and you will oblige me by giving me a specific answer to my question. Do you, now you know the facts, intend to observe my request that you will discontinue your very marked attentions to the lady who has done me the honour to accept my hand?"
"I think I must ask you to await Mrs. Sinclair's answer, for which you have called by appointment," Melville answered suavely. "You see, Sir Ross, this is her house, and I can only accept dismissal from it at the desire of its owner, who invited me to it. There is another point, too; my relationship to Mrs. Sinclair renders your apprehensions unnecessary, and I think it would be presumption on my part to do anything to suggest they were well founded."
"In short, you won't go?" Sir Ross asked, with suppressed fury.
"Thank you, no," Melville replied.
"Then I will," said Sir Ross, and rising abruptly he bounced out of the door, leaving Melville in possession of the field.
Lavender Sinclair, coming downstairs at that moment, met him in the hall.