Whether or not I was to be so much blamed, or rather perhaps pitied, I must leave others to judge of. My shrewdness (of which I have a good deal, too) seems not so great with the ladies. No doubt, at the moment when I awaked her, I was thinking a good deal of the effect upon James More; and similarly when I returned and we were all sat down to breakfast, I continued to behave to the young lady with deference¹ and distance; as I still think to have been most wise. Her father had cast doubts upon the innocence² of my friendship; and these, it was my first business to allay³. But there is a kind of an excuse for Catriona also. We had shared in a scene of some tenderness and passion, and given and received caresses⁴; I had thrust her from me with violence; I had called aloud upon her in the night from the one room to the other; she had passed hours of wakefulness and weeping; and it is not to be supposed I had been absent from her pillow thoughts. Upon the back of this, to be awaked, with unaccustomed formality, under the name of Miss Drummond, and to be thenceforth used with a great deal of distance [pg 336]and respect, led her entirely⁶ in error on my private sentiments; and she was indeed so incredibly abused as to imagine me repentant⁷ and trying to draw off!  
The trouble betwixt us seems to have been this: that whereas I (since I had first set eyes on his great hat) thought singly of James More, his return and suspicions, she made so little of these that I may say she scarce remarked them, and all her troubles and doings regarded what had passed between us in the night before. This is partly to be explained by the innocence and boldness of her character; and partly because James More, having sped so ill in his interview with me, or had his mouth closed by my invitation, said no word to her upon the subject. At the breakfast, accordingly, it soon appeared we were at cross purposes. I had looked to find her in clothes of her own: I found her (as if her father were forgotten) wearing some of the best that I had bought for her and which she knew (or thought) that I admired her in. I had looked to find her imitate my affectation of distance, and be most precise and formal; instead I found her flushed and wild-like, with eyes extraordinary bright, and a painful and varying expression, calling me by name with a sort of appeal of tenderness, and referring and deferring⁸ to my thoughts and wishes like an anxious or a suspected wife.
 
But this was not for long. As I beheld⁹ her so regardless of her own interests, which I had jeopardised [pg 337]and was now endeavoring to recover, I redoubled my own boldness in the manner of a lesson to the girl. The more she came forward, the further I drew back; the more she betrayed the closeness of our intimacy¹⁰, the more pointedly¹¹ civil I became, until even her father (if he had not been so engrossed¹² with eating) might have observed the opposition¹³. In the midst of which, of a sudden, she became wholly changed, and I told myself, with a good deal of relief, that she had took the hint at last.
 
All day I was at my classes or in quest of my new lodging¹⁴; and though the hour of our customary walk hung miserably¹⁵ on my hands, I cannot say but I was happy on the whole to find my way cleared, the girl again in proper keeping, the father satisfied or at least acquiescent¹⁶, and myself free to prosecute¹⁷ my love with honour. At supper, as at all our meals, it was James More that did the talking. No doubt but he talked well, if anyone could have believed him. But I will speak of him presently more at large. The meal at an end, he rose, got his great coat, and looking (as I thought) at me, observed he had affairs abroad. I took this for a hint that I was to be going also, and got up; whereupon the girl, who had scarce given me greeting at my entrance, turned her eyes on me wide open, with a look that bade me stay. I stood between them like a fish out of water, turning from one to the other; neither seemed to observe me, she gazing on the floor, he buttoning [pg 338]his coat: which vastly swelled¹⁸ my embarrassment¹⁹. This appearance of indifferency argued, upon her side, a good deal of anger very near to burst out. Upon his, I thought it horribly alarming; I made sure there was a tempest brewing²⁰ there; and considering that to be the chief peril²¹, turned towards him and put myself (so to speak) in the man's hands.
 
"Can I do anything for you, Mr. Drummond?" says I.
 
He stifled²² a yawn, which again I thought to be duplicity. "Why, Mr. David," said he, "since you are so obliging as to propose it, you might show me the way to a certain tavern²³" (of which he gave the name) "where I hope to fall in with some old companions in arms."
 
There was no more to say, and I got my hat and cloak to bear him company.
 
"And as for you," he says to his daughter, "you had best go to your bed. I shall be late home, and Early to bed and early to rise, gars bonny lasses have bright eyes."
 
Whereupon he kissed her with a good deal of tenderness, and ushered²⁴ me before him from the door. This was so done (I thought on purpose) that it was scarce possible there should be any parting salutation; but I observed she did not look at me, and set it down to terror of James More.
 
It was some distance to that tavern. He talked all [pg 339]the way of matters which did not interest me the smallest, and at the door dismissed me with empty manners. Thence I walked to my new lodging, where I had not so much as a chimney to hold me warm, and no society but my own thoughts. These were still bright enough; I did not so much as dream that Catriona was turned against me; I thought we were like folk pledged; I thought we had been too near and spoke²⁵ too warmly to be severed²⁶, least of all by what were only steps in a most needful policy. And the chief of my concern was only the kind of father-in-law that I was getting, which was not at all the kind I would have chosen: and the matter of how soon I ought to speak to him, which was a delicate point on several sides. In the first place, when I thought how young I was, I blushed all over, and could almost have found it in my heart to have desisted; only that if once I let them go from Leyden without explanation, I might lose her altogether. And in the second place, there was our very irregular situation to be kept in view, and the rather scant²⁷ measure of satisfaction I had given James More that morning. I concluded, on the whole, that delay would not hurt anything, yet I would not delay too long neither; and got to my cold bed with a full heart.
 
The next day, as James More seemed a little on the complaining hand in the matter of my chamber²⁸, I offered to have in more furniture; and coming in the afternoon, with porters bringing chairs and tables, [pg 340]found the girl once more left to herself. She greeted me on my admission civilly, but withdrew at once to her own room, of which she shut the door. I made my disposition²⁹, and paid and dismissed the men so that she might hear them go, when I supposed she would at once come forth⁵ again to speak to me. I waited yet awhile, then knocked upon her door.
 
"Catriona!" said I.
 
The door was opened so quickly, even before I had the word out, that I thought she must have stood behind it listening. She remained there in the interval³⁰ quite still; but she had a look that I cannot put a name on, as of one in a bitter trouble.
 
"Are we not to have our walk to-day either?" so I faltered³¹.
 
"I am thanking you," said she. "I will not be caring much to walk, now that my father is come home."
 
"But I think he has gone out himself and left you here alone," said I.
 
"And do you think that was very kindly³² said?" she asked.
 
"It was not unkindly meant," I replied. "What ails³³ you, Catriona? What have I done to you that you should turn from me like this?"
 
"I do not turn from you at all," she said, speaking very carefully. "I will ever be grateful to my friend that was good to me; I wi............