and there is scarce a field or waterside near Leyden, scarce a street or lane there, where we have not lingered.  Outside of these, I bade her confine herself entirely to our lodgings; this in the fear of her encountering any acquaintance, which would have rendered our position very difficult.  From the same apprehension I would never suffer her to attend church, nor even go myself; but made some kind of shift to hold worship privately in our own chamber—­I hope with an honest, but I am quite sure with a very much divided mind.  Indeed, there was scarce anything that more affected me, than thus to kneel down alone with her before God like man and wife.

One day it was snowing downright hard.  I had thought it not possible that we should venture forth, and was surprised to find her waiting for me ready dressed.

“I will not be doing without my walk,” she cried.  “You are never a good boy, Davie, in the house; I will never be caring for you only in the open air.  I think we two will better turn Egyptian and dwell by the roadside.”

That was the best walk yet of all of them; she clung near to me in the falling snow; it beat about and melted on us, and the drops stood upon her bright cheeks like tears and ran into her smiling mouth.  Strength seemed to come upon me with the sight like a giant’s; I thought I could have caught her up and run with her into the uttermost places in the earth; and we spoke together all that time beyond belief for freedom and sweetness.

It was the dark night when we came to the house door.  She pressed my arm upon her bosom.  “Thank you kindly for these same good hours,” said she, on a deep note of her voice.

The concern in which I fell instantly on this address, put me with the same swiftness on my guard; and we were no sooner in the chamber, and the light made, than she beheld the old, dour, stubborn countenance of the student of Heineccius.  Doubtless she was more than usually hurt; and I know for myself, I found it more than usually difficult to maintain my strangeness.  Even at the meal, I durst scarce unbuckle and scarce lift my eyes to her; and it was no sooner over than I fell again to my civilian, with more seeming abstraction and less understanding than before.  Methought, as I-read, I could hear my heart strike like an eight-day clock.  Hard as I feigned to study, there was still some of my eyesight that spilled beyond the book upon Catriona.  She sat on the floor by the side of my great mail, and the chimney lighted her up, and shone and blinked upon her, and made her glow and darken through a wonder of fine hues.  Now she would be gazing in the fire, and then again at me; and at that I would be plunged in a terror of myself, and turn the pages of Heineccius like a man looking for the text in church.

Suddenly she called out aloud, “O, why does not my father come?” she cried, and fell at once into a storm of tears.

I leaped up, flung Heineccius fairly into the fire, ran to her side, and cast an arm around her sobbing body.