‘But it is to one another,’ said Walkinshaw, unguardedly, and in the simplicity of earnestness, which Miss perceiving, instantly with the adroitness of her sex turned to account--saying with well-feigned diffidence,-- ‘I do not see why that should be so distressing to you.’ ‘No!’ replied he. ‘But the thing can never be, and it is of no use for us to talk of it--so good night.’ ‘Stay,’ cried Robina,--‘what you have told me deserves consideration.--Surely I have given you no reason to suppose that in a matter so important, I may not find it my interest to comply with my father’s wishes.’ ‘Heavens!’ exclaimed Walkinshaw, raising his clenched hands in a transport to the skies. ‘Why are you so vehement?’ said Robina. ‘Because,’ replied he solemnly, ‘interest seems the everlasting consideration of our family--interest disinherited my father--interest made my uncle Walter consign my mother to poverty--interest proved the poor repentant wretch insane--interest claims the extinction of all I hold most precious in life--and interest would make me baser than the most sordid of all our sordid race.’ ‘Then I am to understand you dislike me so much, that you have refused to accede to my father’s wishes for our mutual happiness?’ ‘For our mutual misery, I have refused to accede,’ was the abrupt reply--‘and if you had not some motive for appearing to feel otherwise--which motive I neither can penetrate nor desire to know, you would be as resolute in your objection to the bargain as I am--match I cannot call it, for it proceeds in a total oblivion of all that can endear or ennoble such a permanent connexion.’ Miss was conscious of the truth of this observation, and with all her innate address, it threw her off her guard, and she said,-- ‘Why do you suppose that I am so insensible? My father may intend what he pleases, but my consent must be obtained before he can complete his intentions.’ She had, however, scarcely said so much, when she perceived she was losing the vantage-ground that she had so dexterously occupied, and she turned briskly round and added, ‘But, James, why should we fall out about this?--there is time enough before us to consider the subject dispassionately--my father cannot mean that the marriage should take place immediately.’