At any rate they received him coldly, Donald drew Christine a little apart, said a few whispered words to her, and lifting his bonnet slightly to James, he went away.
In the few minutes of this unfortunate meeting the devil entered into James' heart.

Even Christine was struck with the new look on his face.
It was haughty, malicious, and triumphant, and he leaned against the high oaken chimney-piece in a defiant way that annoyed Christine, though she could not analyze it.
"Sit down, James," she said with a touch of authority--for his attitude had unconsciously put her on the defensive.

"Donald has gone to the Caledonian club; there is to be a grand gathering of Highland gentlemen there to-night." "_Gentlemen!_" "Well, yes, _gentlemen!_ And there will be none there more worthy the name than our Donald." "The rest of them are much to be scorned at, then." "James, James, that speech was little like you.

Sit down and come to yourself; I am sure you are not so mean as to grudge Donald the rights of his good birth." "Donald McFarlane shall have all the rights he has worked for; and when he gets his just payment he will be in Glasgow jail." "James, you are ill.

You have not been here for a week, and you look so unlike yourself.