"He spoke of it the first, if that is what you mean," I began.
She was walking ever the faster, and looking fair 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 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, and only vexed that I can do no better. It is a strange thing to me that you can take any pleasure to be hard to me."
"I am not thinking of you," she said, "I am thinking of that man, my father."
"Well, and that way, too!" said I. "I can be of use to you that way, too; I will have to be. It is very needful, my dear, that we should consult about your father; for the way this talk has gone, an angry man will be James More."
She stopped again. "It is because I am disgraced?" she asked.