oor, why, "there is still some picking," said Sir
Geoffrey, "on the bones of the old estate; and Dame Margaret and I will
be content with the less, that you young folks may have your share of
it. I am turned frugal already, Julian. You see what a north-country
shambling bit of a Galloway nag I ride upon--a different beast, I wot,
from my own old Black Hastings, who had but one fault, and that was his
wish to turn down Moultrassie avenue."

"Was that so great a fault?" said Julian, affecting indifference, while
his heart was trembling, as it seemed to him, almost in his very throat.

"It used to remind me of that base, dishonourable Presbyterian fellow,
Bridgenorth," said Sir Geoffrey; "and I would as lief think of a
toad:--they say he has turned Independent, to accomplish the full degree
of rascality.--I tell you, Gill, I turned off the cow-boy, for gathering
nuts in his woods--I would hang a dog that would so much as kill a hare
there.--But what is the matter with you? You look pale."

Julian made some indifferent answer, but too well understood, from the
language and tone which his father used, that his prejudices against
Alice's father were both deep and envenomed, as those of country
gentlemen often become, who, having little to do or think of, are but
too apt to spend their time in nursing and cherishing petty causes of
wrath against their next neighbours.

In the course of the same day, he mentioned the Bridgenorth to his
mother, as if in a casual manner. But the Lady Peveril instantly
conjured him never to mention the name, especially in his father's
presence.

"Was that Major Bridgenorth, of whom I have heard the name mentioned,"
said Julian, "so very bad a neighbour?"

"I do not say so," said Lady Peveril; "nay, we were more than once
obliged to him, in the former unhappy times; but your father and he took
some passages so ill at each other's hands, that the least allusion
to him disturbs Sir Geoffrey's temper, in a manner quite unusual, and
which, now that his health is somewhat impaired, is sometimes alarming
to me. For Heaven's sake, then, my dear Julian, avoid upon all occasions
the slightest allusion to Moultrassie, or any of its inhabitants."

This warning was so seriously given, that Julian himself saw that
mentioning his secret purpose would be the sure way to render it
abortive, and therefore he returned disconsolate to the Isle.

Peveril had the boldness, however, to make the best he could of