Fiction > Book editions > New York, 1893 - David Balfour

800 DAVID BALFOUE
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 moun-
tains ! Though I will never be denying but what the
trees and some of the plain places hereabouts are very
])retty. 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.