t one moment touched him as a fairy
might have done; had sprung at another from stone to stone, requiring
no help; and then, on a sudden, had become so powerless that he had
been forced almost to carry her in his arms. That, probably, must
have been the moment which induced Mr. Gowran to liken her to a quean
at a fair.

But, undoubtedly, there might be trouble. Frank was sufficiently
experienced in the ways of the world to know that trouble would
sometimes come from young ladies who treat young men like their
brothers, when those young men are engaged to other young ladies.
The other young ladies are apt to disapprove of brothers who are
not brothers by absolute right of birth. He knew also that all the
circumstances of his cousin's position would make it expedient that
she should marry a second husband. As he could not be that second
husband,--that matter was settled, whether for good or bad,--was he
not creating trouble, both for her and for himself? Then there arose
in his mind a feeling, very strange, but by no means uncommon, that
prudence on his part would be mean, because by such prudence he would
be securing safety for himself as well as for her. What he was doing
was not only imprudent,--but wrong also. He knew that it was so. But
Lizzie Eustace was a pretty young woman; and, when a pretty young
woman is in the case, a man is bound to think neither of what is
prudent, nor of what is right. Such was--perhaps his instinct rather
than his theory. For her sake, if not for his own, he should have
abstained. She was his cousin, and was so placed in the world as
specially to require some strong hand to help her. He knew her to be,
in truth, heartless, false, and greedy; but she had so lived that
even yet her future life might be successful. He had called himself
her friend as well as cousin, and was bound to protect her from
evil, if protection were possible. But he was adding to all her
difficulties, because she pretended to be in love with him. He knew
that it was pretence; and yet, because she was pretty, and because he
was a man, he could not save her from herself. "It doesn't do to be
wiser than other men," he said to himself as he looked round about on
the bare hill-side. In the meantime he had altogether lost his way.

It was between nine and ten when he reached the Cottage. "Of course
you have dined?" said Herriot.

"Not a bit of it. I left before five, being sure that I could get
here in an hour and a hal