leaving the Hall, he
could not repress his desire to speak with Bridgenorth in secret; and
advancing towards him, he expressed such a desire.

Tacitly granting what was asked of him, Bridgenorth led the way to a
small summer saloon adjoining to the Hall, where, with his usual gravity
and indifference of manner, he seemed to await in silence what Peveril
had to communicate.

Julian found it difficult, where so little opening was afforded him, to
find a tone in which to open the subjects he had at heart, that should
be at once dignified and conciliating. "Major Bridgenorth," he said at
length, "you have been a son, and an affectionate one--You may conceive
my present anxiety--My father!--What has been designed for him?"

"What the law will," answered Bridgenorth. "Had he walked by the
counsels which I procured to be given to him, he might have dwelt safely
in the house of his ancestors. His fate is now beyond my control--far
beyond yours. It must be with him as his country decide."

"And my mother?" said Peveril.

"Will consult, as she has ever done, her own duty; and create her
own happiness by doing so," replied Bridgenorth. "Believe, my designs
towards your family are better than they may seem through the mist which
adversity has spread around your house. I may triumph as a man; but as
a man I must also remember, in my hour, that mine enemies have had
theirs.--Have you aught else to say?" he added, after a momentary pause.
"You have rejected once, yea, and again, the hand I stretched out to
you. Methinks little more remains between us."

These words, which seemed to cut short farther discussion, were calmly
spoken; so that though they appeared to discourage farther question,
they could not interrupt that which still trembled on Julian's tongue.
He made a step or two towards the door; then suddenly returned. "Your
daughter?" he said--"Major Bridgenorth--I should ask--I _do_ ask
forgiveness for mentioning her name--but may I not inquire after
her?--May I not express my wishes for her future happiness?"

"Your interest in her is but too flattering," said Bridgenorth; "but you
have already chosen your part; and you must be, in future, strangers
to each other. I may have wished it otherwise, but the hour of grace is
passed, during which your compliance with my advice might--I will speak
it plainly--have led to your union. For her happiness--if such a word
belongs to mortal pilgrimage--I shall care for it sufficientl