"It is upon my lips to beg you not to send that letter, Finlay." He took his hand from the young man's shoulder, inserted a thumb in each of his waistcoat pockets, and resumed his walk.
"On my own account I must send it," said Finlay.

"On Miss Murchison's--she bids me to.

We have gone into the matter together." "I can imagine what you made of it together.

There's a good deal of her father in Advena.

He would be the last man to say a word for himself.
You told her this tale you have told me, and she told you to get Miss Christie out and marry her without delay, eh?
And what would you expect her to tell you--a girl of that spirit ?" "I cannot see why pride should influence her." "Then you know little about women.