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 I 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.
"He told you to!" she cried. "It is no sense denying it, you said yourself that there was nothing farther from your thoughts. He told you to."
"He spoke of it the first, if that is what you mean," I began.
She was walking ever the faster, and looking fain in front of her; but at this she made a little noise in her head, and I thought she would have run.
"Without which," I went on, "after what you said last Friday, I would never have been so troublesome as make the offer. But when he as good as asked me, what was I to do?"
She stopped and turned round upon me.
"Well, it is refused at all events," she cried, "and there will be an end of that."
And she began again to walk forward.
"I suppose I could expect no better," said I, "but I think you might try to be a little kind to me for the last end of it. I see not why you should be harsh. I have loved you very well, Catriona—no harm that I should call you so for the last time. I have done the best that I could manage, I am trying the same still,
