I dwelled upon the idea fiercely; and presently slipped on, in a kind of malevolence, to consider how very poorly they were like to fare when Davie Balfour was no longer by to be their milk-cow; at which, to my own very great surprise, the disposition of my mind turned bottom up.

I was still angry; I still hated her; and yet I thought I owed it to myself that she should suffer nothing.
This carried me home again at once, where I found the mails drawn out and ready fastened by the door, and the father and daughter with every mark upon them of a recent disagreement.

Catriona was like a wooden doll; James More breathed hard, his face was dotted with white spots, and his nose upon one side.

As soon as I came in, the girl looked at him with a steady, clear, dark look that might very well have been followed by a blow.

It was a hint that was more contemptuous than a command, and I was surprised to see James More accept it.