“It does, it does, dear Alma. Good-night. Meet me here to-morrow afternoon, somewhat earlier than this—two hours earlier—at about six o’clock. Until then, good-bye, dearest Alma.”
And before she could reply, or object to the hour named, he raised her hand to his lips, bowed, and disappeared in the depths of the woods.
She remained for an instant transfixed with consternation at the thought that he had unconsciously appointed for their next interview the very spot and the very hour at which she had promised to meet her father.
Her first impulse was to fly after Norham, call him back, and name another afternoon, but the fear of again arousing his jealous suspicions restrained her. A little reflection also convinced her that, though she might defer the meeting, she could not prevent Norham from haunting the wood to be near her. How to deliver herself from this dilemma, how to escape from the dangers that threatened her, Alma understood not.
If she rendered herself at the appointed time and place she would find herself confronted with her father and her lover.
If she broke her appointment and remained at home, Hollis Elverton and Norham Montrose, coming thither at the same time to seek her, would be confronted with each other.
What, in any case, would be the result Alma feared to think.
Full of distress and perplexity, she turned her steps homeward.
She entered the house just as the hall-clock was striking eight.
“Mees Alma, I been seeking for you all over ze house. Miladie, your movver, desire you come to her direct,” said old Madelon, meeting Miss Elverton at the foot of the great staircase.