“Mr Tregenna is a gentleman I could never like,” retorted Rhoda, without condescending to answer this banter, “and I believe he is already engaged to Margaret Mullion.”
“Engaged? Madge Mullion? Now, my dear Rhoda, what nonsense. Is it likely that if Tregenna were engaged to Madge he would talk as he has several times talked to me? How can you be so absurd?”
“But he must be, papa,” said Rhoda, quickly.
“Nonsense! Absurd!”
“I have myself met them on the cliffs and up An Lowan.”
“Well, and if you did, it was only a bit of silly flirtation with a very handsome girl. Tregenna could not care for her. Besides, she is a notorious flirt.”
“I have nothing to say to that, papa,” replied Rhoda, quietly.
“But I have,” he said, now angrily, “and I really am surprised at you—a girl of so much sense—bringing up some silly flirtation against a man who proposes for your hand. What do you want to marry—an archangel?”
“No, papa,” said Rhoda, coldly.
“Now look here, Rhoda,” exclaimed Mr Penwynn, growing angry at the opposition he was encountering, “you have some reason for this.”