“I ask you how it is possible that I could have found you here? You are certainly not in proper company.”
She began to see his meaning, and started at the boldness of his question.
“Not in proper company,” she slowly repeated. “May I remind you that I am at the house of my uncle and aunt?”
“I know that. But your uncle and aunt, it seems to me, are in the habit of receiving people who are not fit company for you. You are here with the consent of your relations, I suppose?”
She began to tremble all over, and her eyes were fixed upon him with all the haughtiness that she could at that moment muster up.
“May I ask you, Mr. St. Clare, by what right you place me under cross-examination? I thought I was free to do as I pleased, and am old enough to choose my friends without anybody’s consent, either that of my relations or of yourself.”
Her tone was sharp and cutting. She was about to turn away. He took her hand, she quickly withdrew it.
“Do stay a moment, pray. Forgive me if I have hurt you. But I take an interest in you, I have heard so much about you from Vincent. I knew you, in fact, before I had seen you. I looked upon you somewhat—somewhat, if I may say it, as a little sister, just as I thought of Vincent as my brother; and now I find you here, mixed with people——”
“Thank you very much for your good intentions,” she resumed with icy coldness, “but in future please to give expression to your brotherly interest in a more proper fashion. You knew me before you had seen me, it is possible. I have known you now for a week, and I cannot understand how you dare to speak to me as if you were called upon to be my guardian. I am much obliged to you for your solicitude, but I do not need it.”
He made a movement of impatience, and once more prevented her from going. She was still trembling with rage, but she stayed.