The day came round at last when she and I were to separate. We had been extremely intimate and familiar; I was much in her debt; and what way we were to part was a thing that put me from my sleep, like the vails I was to give to the domestic servants. I knew she considered me too backward, and rather desired to rise in her opinion on that head. Besides which, after so much affection shown and (I believe) felt upon both sides, it would have looked cold-like to be anyways stiff. Accordingly, I got my courage up and my words ready, and the last chance we were like to be alone, asked pretty boldly to be allowed to salute her in farewell. “You forget yourself strangely, Mr. Balfour,” said she. “I cannot call to mind that I have given you any right to presume on our acquaintancy.” I stood before her like a stopped clock, and knew not what to think, far less to say, when of a sudden she cast her arms about my neck and kissed me with the best will in the world. “You inimitable bairn!” she cried. “Did you think that I would let us part like strangers? Because I can never keep my gravity at you five minutes on end, you must not dream I do not love you very well: I am all love and laughter, every time I cast an eye on you! And now I will give you an advice to conclude your education, which you will have need of before it’s very long. Never _ask_ womenfolk. They’re bound to answer ‘No’; God never made the lass that could resist the temptation. It’s supposed by divines to be the curse of Eve: because she did not say it when the devil offered her the apple, her daughters can say nothing else.” “Since I am so soon to lose my bonny professor,” I began. “This is gallant, indeed,” says she curtseying. “I would put the one question,” I went on. “May I ask a lass to marry to me?” “You think you could not marry her without!” she asked. “Or else get her to offer?” “You see you cannot be serious,” said I. “I shall be very serious in one thing, David,” said she: “I shall always be your friend.” As I got to my horse the next morning, the four ladies were all at that same window whence we had once looked down on Catriona, and all cried farewell and waved their pocket napkins as I rode away. One out of the four I knew was truly sorry; and at the thought of that, and how I had come to the door three months ago for the first time, sorrow and gratitude made a confusion in my mind. PART II. FATHER AND DAUGHTER CHAPTER XXI. THE VOYAGE INTO HOLLAND