'If I force this conversation—' he began in a bitter and rather upbraiding tone, then pausing; 'pardon me if I offend,' he resumed, with what seemed growing sadness, while attempting to touch her hand, yet withdrawing his own in apparent timidity. 'But am I wrong in deeming your engagement—or alleged engagement, as rumour says, made when you were a child—one in which your woman's heart and wishes have not been consulted? Tell me—for I may have to leave Dundargue soon now.'
She was in some respects but a weak girl; he a crafty and wily man of the world; and, though he knew it not in the least, he was touching her on a very tender point—yet she replied, firmly enough,
'You have no right to question me; but say, what has Allan done to you that your face should darken at the mention of his name? Is he not your friend?'
'He was.'
'And now——'
'He is no longer so.'
'Why?'
'He is my rival.'
She coloured to her temples at this blunt reply, and all it inferred.
'I loved you long before you ever cared for me,' he resumed, coolly.