“Yes,” said Dame Deborah; “but I did not bid you fall in love with us, though, or propose such a matter as marriage either to Alice or myself. Why, there is the knight your father, and my lady your mother; and there is her father that is half crazy with his religion, and her aunt that wears eternal black grogram for that unlucky Colonel Christian; and there is the Countess of Derby that would serve us all with the same sauce if we were thinking of anything that would displease her. Though I may indeed have said your estates were born to be united, and sure enough they might be were you to marry Alice Bridgenorth.”
The good nature of Dame Debbitch could not, however, resist the appeal of Julian, and she left the apartment and ran upstairs.
The visits of Julian to the Black Fort had hitherto been only occasional, but his affections were fixed, and his ardent character had already declared his love. To-day, on her entrance to the room, Alice reproached him for again coming there against her earnest request. “It were better that we should part for a long time,” she said softly, “and for heaven’s sake let it be as soon as possible—perhaps it is even now too late to prevent some unpleasant accident. Spare yourself, Julian— spare me—and in mercy to us both depart, and return not again till you can be more reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” replied Julian. “Did you not say that if our parents could be brought to consent to our union, you would no longer oppose my suit?”
“Indeed, indeed, Julian,” said the almost weeping girl, “you ought not to press me thus. It is ungenerous, it is cruel. You dared not to mention the subject to your own father—how should you venture to mention it to mine?”
“Major Bridgenorth,” replied Julian, “by my mother’s account, is an estimable man. I will remind him that to my mother’s care he owes the dearest treasure and comfort of his life. Let me but know where to find him, Alice, and you shall soon hear if I have feared to plead my cause with him.”
“Do not attempt it,” said Alice. “He is already a man of sorrows. Besides, I could not tell you if I would where he is now to be found. My letters reach him from time to time by means of my Aunt Christian, but of his address I am entirely ignorant.”
“Then, by heaven,” answered Julian, “I will watch his arrival in this island, and he shall answer me on the subject of my suit.”
“Then demand that answer now,” said a voice, as the door opened, “for here stands Ralph Bridgenorth.” As he spoke, he entered the apartment with slow and sedate step, and eyed alternately his daughter and Julian Peveril with a penetrating glance.