rself,
Julian--spare me--and in mercy to us both depart, and return not again
till you can be more reasonable."

"Reasonable?" replied Julian; "it is you, Alice, who will deprive me
altogether of reason. Did you not say, that if our parents could be
brought to consent to our union, you would no longer oppose my suit?"

"No--no--no," said Alice eagerly, and blushing deeply,--"I did not say
so, Julian--it was your own wild imagination which put construction on
my silence and my confusion."

"You do _not_ say so, then?" answered Julian; "and if all other
obstacles were removed, I should find one in the cold flinty bosom of
her who repays the most devoted and sincere affection with contempt and
dislike?--Is that," he added, in a deep tone of feeling--"is that what
Alice Bridgenorth says to Julian Peveril?"

"Indeed--indeed, Julian," said the almost weeping girl, "I do not say
so--I say nothing, and I ought not to say anything concerning what
I might do, in a state of things which can never take place. Indeed,
Julian, you ought not thus to press me. Unprotected as I am--wishing you
well--very well--why should you urge me to say or do what would lessen
me in my own eyes? to own affection for one from whom fate has separated
me for ever? It is ungenerous--it is cruel--it is seeking a momentary
and selfish gratification to yourself, at the expense of every feeling
which I ought to entertain."

"You have said enough, Alice," said Julian, with sparkling eyes; "you
have said enough in deprecating my urgency, and I will press you no
farther. But you overrate the impediments which lie betwixt us--they
must and shall give way."

"So you said before," answered Alice, "and with what probability, your
own account may show. You dared not to mention the subject to your own
father--how should you venture to mention it to mine?"

"That I will soon enable you to decide upon. Major Bridgenorth, by my
mother's account, is a worthy and an estimable man. I will remind him,
that to my mother's care he owes the dearest treasure and comfort of his
life; and I will ask him if it is a just retribution to make that mother
childless. Let me but know where to find him, Alice, and you shall soon
hear if I have feared to plead my cause with him."

"Alas!" answered Alice, "you well know my uncertainty as to my dear
father's residence. How often has it been my earnest request to him that
he would let me share his solitary abode, or his obscure wand