"No, Henry, no! that is impossible!"
Alison let her hand fall, and morosely stepped back, "Impossible!" repeated he cuttingly.
"And why so?"
Jane might well feel that her almost violent refusal rendered an explanation necessary.
"I am still in mourning for my father!" she said gently, "and in this entire matter I simply follow his arrangements and his wishes."
"It was your wish, Jane, not Mr. Forest's, I understood, that, in the presence of a dying father, you did not wish to be a bride; and it was my own journey which so long deferred the time fixed upon for our union. The one reason exists no longer; and destiny, which after months of separation, has now united us, has done away with the other. If, during your year of mourning, you do not wish to marry, so be it. I will not urge you, but I implore, I demand that you no longer veil our mutual relations in this profound secrecy; that you publicly acknowledge yourself my betrothed, and give me the right to visit you as your accepted suitor in the house of your relatives."
[CHAPTER VIII.]
The Heiress at Bay.
There was such energy in his manner, such determination in his just demand, that evasion seemed impossible, and any other young lady would scarce have attempted it; but Alison forgot that Jane--was quite a match for him, that her energy was quite equal to his, and that this tone was least of all designed to incline her to obedience. This "I demand," sounded very strange and harsh in the ears of the proud girl. It called forth all her obstinacy.
"You forget, Mr. Alison, that the time has not yet come for you to 'demand,'" she said coldly. "I have imposed upon you a condition which you promised to fulfil; the reason therefor, now as then, rests solely in my judgment. I do not release you from your promise. I will not!"