"My child, receive with favor Mr. Leslie. He has my consent to address you as a suitor. Circumstances, of which it is needless now to inform you, render it essential to my very peace and happiness that your marriage should be immediate. In a word, I have given my promise to Mr. Leslie, and I confidently leave it to the daughter of my house to redeem the pledge of her anxious and tender father."
The letter dropped from Violante's hand. Randal approached, and restored it to her. Their eyes met. Violante recoiled.
"I can not marry you," said she, passively.
"Indeed?" answered Randal, drily. "Is it because you can not love me?"
"Yes."
"I did not expect that you would, and I still persist in my suit. I have promised to your father that I would not recede before your first unconsidered refusal."
"I will go to my father at once."
"Does he request you to do so in his letter? Look again. Pardon me, but he foresaw your impetuosity; and I have another note for Lady Lansmere, in which he begs her ladyship not to sanction your return to him (should you so wish) until he come or send for you himself. He will do so whenever your word has redeemed his own."
"And do you dare to talk to me thus, and yet pretend to love me?"
Randal smiled ironically.