“No, I am certainly not engaged,” said Evereld. “But as soon a I come of age I shall be engaged.”
“To whom,” said Sir Matthew.
“To Ralph,” she said, a vivid blush dyeing her cheeks.
With an inarticulate exclamation of wrath, Sir Matthew began to pace to and fro.
“This comes of adopting beggars,” he said between his teeth. At that, Evereld started to her feet, and would have left the room had he not intercepted her.
“How long has this been going on?” he said, angrily.
“I never knew I cared for him like that until he had gone away more than a year ago, when you brought down the news about his examination.”
“Just like the ungrateful fellow,” said Sir Matthew. “As soon as he saw that there was nothing more to be got out of me, he thought to feather his nest with your fortune.”
Evereld struggled hard not to lose control over her temper, but every pulse in her throbbed indignantly at the words.
“I think,” she said in a low voice, “that money is the last thing any Denmead ever troubled himself to think of.”