“Your father wishes us to take our walk,” said I.

She looked to James More, who nodded, and at that, like a trained soldier, she turned to go with me.

We took one of our old ways, where we had gone often together, and been more happy than I can tell of in the past.  I came a half a step behind, so that I could watch her unobserved.  The knocking of her little shoes upon the way sounded extraordinary pretty and sad; and I thought it a strange moment that I should be so near both ends of it at once, and walk in the midst between two destinies, and could not tell whether I was hearing these steps for the last time, or whether the sound of them was to go in and out with me till death should part us.

She avoided even to look at me, only walked before her, like one who had a guess of what was coming.  I saw I must speak soon before my courage was run out, but where to begin I knew not.  In this painful situation, when the girl was as good as forced into my arms and had already besought my forbearance, any excess of pressure must have seemed indecent; yet to avoid it wholly would have a very cold-like appearance.  Between these extremes I stood helpless, and could have bit my fingers; so that, when at last I managed to speak at all, it may be said I spoke at random.

“Catriona,” said I, “I am in a very painful situation; or rather, so we are both; and I would be a good deal obliged to you if you would promise to let me speak through first of all, and not to interrupt till I have done.”

She promised me that simply.

“Well,” said I, “this that I have got to say is very difficult, and I know very well I have no right to be saying it.  After what passed between the two of us last Friday, I have no manner of right.  We have got so ravelled up (and all by my fault) that I know very well the least I could do is just to hold my tongue, which was what I intended fully, and there was nothing further from my thoughts than to have troubled you again.  But, my dear, it has become merely necessary, and no way by it.  You see, this estate of mine has fallen in, which makes me rather a better match; and the—­the business would not have quite the same ridiculous-like appearance that it would before.  Besides which, it’s supposed that our affairs have got so much ravelled up (as I was saying) that it would be better to let them be the way they are.  In my view, this part of the thing is vastly exaggerate, and if I were you I would not wear two thoughts on it.  Only it’s right I should mention the same, because there’s no doubt it has some influence on James More.  Then I think we were none so unhappy when we dwelt together in this town before.  I think we did pretty well together.  If you would look back, my dear—­”

“I will look neither back nor forward,” she interrupted.  “Tell me the one thing:  this is my father’s doing?”

“He approves of it,” said I.  “He approved that I should ask your hand in marriage,” and was going on again with somewhat more of an appeal upon her feelings; but she marked me not, and struck into the midst.