“I am not Mr. Orchardson of Sunbury,” I answered; “my Uncle Cornelius is the gentleman so known. I am Christopher Orchardson, who only helps him in his business.”
“Then, Christopher Orchardson,” resumed their mother, as I came back and looked at her quietly, “you seem to have very little knowledge of good manners. Allow me to ask you what you are doing in this house?”
“I understood that I was sent for, ma’am; and I am waiting to know what your pleasure is.” I saw the girls giggle, and glance at one another, as I delivered this statement.
“None of your trifling with me, young man. What I insist upon knowing is this. What right had you to enter my house, some hours ago, without my knowledge, and to remain in it, without my permission? Don’t fence with the question, but answer it.”
“That is easy enough,” I replied with my eyes full on hers, which vainly strove to look down mine; “I came to this house, without asking whose it was, to see Captain Fairthorn, with a little sketch of something in which he had taken interest. The servant, or housekeeper, told me to wait, while she went to look for her mistress. Then I met Miss Fairthorn, whom I have had the pleasure of meeting several times before; and she most kindly showed me to her father’s room. And I was very glad to find him in good health. After a very pleasant time with him, I was leaving the garden on my way home, when I was told that you wished to see me. I was not rude enough to refuse, and that is why I am in this house again.”
“You have made a fine tale of it, but not told the truth. Did you come to my house to see the Professor? Or did you come rather to see his daughter?”
“I came to this house to see Captain Fairthorn. But I hoped that I might perhaps have the pleasure of seeing Miss Fairthorn also.”
“And what was your motive in wishing to see her? I have a right to ask, as she is in my charge. I stand in the place of a mother to her, whether she is grateful, or whether she is otherwise. What did you wish to see her for?”
I was greatly at a loss to answer this. Not from any shame at the affection, which was the honour and glory of my being, but from dread of the consequences to my precious darling. She saw my hesitation, and burst forth,—
“Do you think that I do not know all about it? You have had the gross insolence to lift your eyes to a young lady far above you in every way. You fancy that because she has no mother, and her father is a man of no worldly wisdom, and of extravagant sentiments, a kind of philosopher in short, you will be permitted to reduce her to your inferior rank in life. What are you?—a small market-gardener, or something of that kind, I believe.”