[Waverley by Sir Walter Scott]@TWC D-Link book
Waverley

CHAPTER LVII
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But as to my title to acquiesce in a rejection from her without an appeal to your interest, I will tell you plainly, without meaning to undervalue Miss Mac-Ivor's admitted beauty and accomplishments, that I would not take the hand of an angel, with an empire for her dowry, if her consent were extorted by the importunity of friends and guardians, and did not flow from her own free inclination.' 'An angel, with the dowry of an empire,' repeated Fergus, in a tone of bitter irony, 'is not very likely to be pressed upon a--shire squire .-- But sir,' changing his tone, 'if Flora Mac-Ivor have not the dowry of an empire, she is my sister; and that is sufficient at least to secure her against being treated with anything approaching to levity.' She is Flora Mac-Ivor, sir,' said Waverley, with firmness, 'which to me, were I capable of treating any woman with levity, would be a more effectual protection.' The brow of the Chieftain was now fully clouded, but Edward felt too indignant at the unreasonable tone which he had adopted, to avert the storm by the least concession.

They both stood still while this short dialogue passed, and Fergus seemed half disposed to say something more violent, but, by a strong effort, suppressed his passion, and, turning his face forward, walked sullenly on.

As they had always hitherto walked together, and almost constantly side by side; Waverley pursued his course silently in the same direction, determined to let the Chief take his own time in recovering the good humour which he had so unreasonably discarded, and firm in his resolution not to bate him an inch of dignity.
After they had marched on in this sullen manner about a mile, Fergus resumed the discourse in a different tone.

'I believe I was warm, my dear Edward, but you provoke me with your want of knowledge of the world.

You have taken pet at some of Flora's prudery, or high-flying notions of loyalty, and now, like a child, you quarrel with the plaything you have been crying for, and beat me, your faithful keeper, because my arm cannot reach to Edinburgh to hand it to you.


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