The baronet, rising, said in a more formal tone than he had hitherto used—
“I must beg of you, Miss Pemberton, a few minutes private conversation before I bid you farewell.”
“If you wish it we will go to the dining-room, or Mary and May will leave us alone.”
“Not on any account would I have them quit the drawing-room,” answered Sir Ralph, and stepping up to Miss Mary he lifted her hand to his lips, bowing at the same time to May, with that courtesy which he considered her beauty demanded, though his cold look gave her an unsatisfactory feeling.
“I am obliged to you for allowing me an interview in private,” he said, as soon as he and Miss Jane were seated in the dining-room. “I wish to make enquiries with regard to the young person residing with you, and with whom, it appears, my son Harry has fallen in love. With all respect to you you must be aware that I cannot consider a person in her situation in any way a suitable wife for a son of mine, and though I do not wish to throw blame upon you, I cannot help feeling that you have been guilty of indiscretion, to use no stronger term, in allowing the young people to meet in the way it appears they have done. I should have expected, under the circumstances, that you would not have invited him to the house, and had he called of his own accord would have kept the young lady out of his way. I must therefore hold you responsible for the consequences.”
The tone of this address—so unlike that in which Sir Ralph had been speaking in the drawing-room—took Miss Jane considerably aback; but she was not to be easily brow-beaten even by her cousin.
“I am not conscious, Sir Ralph, of having acted in any way in which I can blame myself,” she answered, with as much dignity as she could command. “We had no design when we expressed our pleasure at seeing Harry at Downside, nor did we think of his falling in love with our young friend.”
“May I ask whether she is a relation, or to what family she belongs?” asked Sir Ralph, abruptly.
“She is no relation, though we love her as one,” said Miss Jane. “Has not your son told you her history?”
“Not a word; he declined doing so,” said the baronet.