think Miss Barbara Grant is the best lady in the
world," she added, "and I do not see what she would deny you for at all
events."

This was Greek and Hebrew to me; but I had other matters to consider,
and the first of these was to get clear of that city on the Leyden road.
It proved a cruel problem; and it may have been one or two at night ere
we had solved it. Once beyond the houses, there was neither moon or
stars to guide us; only the whiteness of the way in the midst and a
blackness of an alley on both hands. The walking was besides made most
extraordinary difficult by a plain black frost that fell suddenly in the
small hours and turned that highway into one long slide.

"Well, Catriona," said I, "here we are like the king's sons and the old
wives' daughters in your daft-like Highland tales. Soon we'll be going
over the '_seven Bens, the seven glens, and the seven mountain moors_.'"
Which was a common byword or overcome in these tales of hers that had
stuck in my memory.

"Ah," says she, "but here are no glens or mountains! Though I will never
be denying but what the trees and some of the plain places hereabouts
are very pretty. But our country is the best yet."

"I wish we could say as much for our own folk," says I, recalling Sprott
and Sang, and perhaps James More himself.

"I will never complain of the country of my friend," said she, and spoke
it out with an accent so particular that I seemed to see the look upon
her face.

I caught in my breath sharp and came near falling (for my pains) on the
black ice.

"I do not know what _you_ think, Catriona," said I, when I was a little
recovered, "but this has been the best day yet! I think shame to say it,
when you have met in with such misfortunes and disfavours; but for me,
it has been the best day yet."

"It was a good day when you showed me so much love," said she.

"And yet I think shame to be happy too," I went on, "and you here on the
road in the black night."

"Where in the great world would I be else?" she cried. "I am thinking I
am safest where I am with you."

"I am quite forgiven, then?" I asked.

"Will you not forgive me that time so much as not to take it in your
mouth again?" she cried. "There's is nothing in this heart to you but
thanks. But I will be honest too," she added, with a kind of suddenness,
"and I'll never can forgive that girl."

"Is this Miss Grant again?" said I. "You said yourself she was the best
lady in the world."

"