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 "I avow it. But now, go on: consider that point settled."

"He made you an offer that night we dined at the Priory?"

"It is enough to say that he made it. Go on."

"He proposed in the recess—in the room that used to be a picture-gallery—that Sir Monckton converted into a saloon?"

No answer.

"You were both examining a cabinet: I saw it all: my sagacity was not at fault—it never is. Subsequently, you received a letter from him. On what subject—of what nature were the contents?"

"No matter."

"Ma'am, is that the way in which you speak to me?"

Shirley's foot tapped quick on the carpet.

"There you sit, silent and sullen—you who promised truthful replies!"

"Sir, I have answered you thus far: proceed."

"I should like to see that letter."

"You cannot see it."

"I must and shall, ma'am. I am your guardian."

"Having ceased to be a ward, I have no guardian."

"Ungrateful being! Reared by me as my own daughter"

"Once more, uncle, have the kindness to keep to the point. Let us both remain cool. For my part, I do not wish to get into a passion; but, you know, once drive me beyond certain bounds, I care little what I say: I am not then soon checked. Listen! You have asked me whether Sir Philip made me an offer: