“What possible objection can you have to him?” said her guardian irritably. “I can tell you, he is a man that most girls would be proud to accept.”
“But I do not love him,” said Evereld.
“Oh, you have been reading novels and have set up some absurd ideal hero unlike any man who ever existed. Bruce Wylie is one of a thousand, he will make you perfectly happy, and will save you from the infinite misery of being run after for the sake of your fortune by unworthy men embarrassed by debts.”
Evereld laughed a little. “I will promise never to marry an unworthy man embarrassed by debts. But nothing will make me marry Mr. Wylie.”
“Then it only remains for me,” said Sir Matthew, “to tell you how things really are. You must marry him, my dear. The whole place is talking about you. Your reputation is at stake. Everyone knows that you were stranded alone with him last night at Vernayaz, and there is only one way to prevent a scandal arising. You must be engaged to him at once, and you shall be married when we go back to London. If you like it might be on the same day that Minnie is married.”
Evereld’s eyes dilated.
“I don’t understand you,” she said. “Can you really mean that because Mr. Wylie very carelessly allowed us to miss the train, and didn’t know—or—or pretended not to know that it was the last train—that I should marry him because of that?”
“Dear child, you are very young and innocent, and the world is a hard censorious place. The busy tongues of these holiday idlers will certainly make free with your name. And I can’t permit that. The best way to avoid scandal, the only way, is to hasten on your marriage.”
“Very well,” said Evereld. “But it is not Mr. Wylie that I shall marry.”
“Do you dare to tell me that you are engaged to any one else?” said Sir Matthew.