ld in that
position, where she had been entrapped into a moment's weakness, and now
stood before me like a person shamed.

"Miss Drummond," I said, and stuck, and made the same beginning once
again, "I wish you could see into my heart," I cried. "You would read
there that my respect is undiminished. If that were possible, I should
say it was increased. This is but the result of the mistake we made; and
had to come; and the less said of it now the better. Of all of our life
here, I promise you it shall never pass my lips; I would like to promise
you too that I would never think of it, but it's a memory that will be
always dear to me. And as for a friend, you have one here that would die
for you."

"I am thanking you," said she.

We stood a while silent, and my sorrow for myself began to get the upper
hand; for here were all my dreams come to a sad tumble, and my love
lost, and myself alone again in the world, as at the beginning.

"Well," said I, "we shall be friends always, that's a certain thing. But
this is a kind of a farewell too: it's a kind of a farewell after all; I
shall always ken Miss Drummond, but this is a farewell to my Catriona."

I looked at her; I could hardly say I saw her, but she seemed to grow
great and brighten in my eyes; and with that I suppose I must have lost
my head, for I called out her name again and made a step at her with my
hands reached forth.

She shrank back like a person struck, her face flamed; but the blood
sprang no faster up into her cheeks than what it flowed back upon my own
heart, at sight of it, with penitence and concern. I found no words to
excuse myself, but bowed before her very deep, and went my ways out of
the house with death in my bosom.

I think it was about five days that followed without any change. I saw
her scarce ever but at meals, and then of course in the company of James
More. If we were alone, even for a moment, I made it my devoir to behave
the more distantly and to multiply respectful attentions, having always
in my mind's eye that picture of the girl shrinking and flaming in a
blush, and in my heart more pity for her than I could depict in words. I
was sorry enough for myself, I need not dwell on that, having fallen all
my length and more than all my height in a few seconds; but, indeed, I
was near as sorry for the girl, and sorry enough to be scarce angry with
her save by fits and starts. Her plea was good: she was but a child; she
had been placed