“I suppose you will think I have no right to ask you such questions; but you are under my roof. If I cannot be your accepted husband, I am, at any rate for the time, your guardian, and I hear that you meet someone else,” added he, his tone betraying the jealous anger that he felt.
Now Chris knew what his information was, and who his informant had been. She turned to him quickly, and laughed uneasily.
“Lilith told you; she saw me in the park.” Then, with a fast beating heart, dreading the answer, she asked, “Didn’t she say who it was?”
“She said she didn’t know. But perhaps it’s some plot between you girls, and she knows his name as well as you do.”
“There is no plot between us, and I never said anything to her about him,” said Chris, quickly. “But I don’t deny that I have met a gentleman belonging to the place once or twice by accident, by accident entirely; and as you take it so seriously, I shall certainly take great care not to tell you his name.”
Mr. Bradfield was evidently furious; but he only said, drily:
“Does your mother know of it?”
“No. But,” added Chris, defiantly, “you can tell her if you like.”
Her spirits had risen, for during the last few moments she had felt pretty sure that either her words or her manner, or both, had diverted his suspicions, if he had had any, from the right quarter.