"consider! What is to be the end of it?"

"The end of what?" - Archie, helpless with irritation, persisted in this
dangerous and ungracious guard.

"Well, the end of the milkmaid; or, to speak more by the card, the end
of Miss Christina Elliott of the Cauldstaneslap."

"I assure you," Archie broke out, "this is all a figment of your
imagination. There is nothing to be said against that young lady; you
have no right to introduce her name into the conversation."

"I'll make a note of it," said Frank. "She shall henceforth be
nameless, nameless, nameless, Grigalach! I make a note besides of your
valuable testimony to her character. I only want to look at this thing
as a man of the world. Admitted she's an angel - but, my good fellow,
is she a lady?"

This was torture to Archie. "I beg your pardon," he said, struggling to
be composed, "but because you have wormed yourself into my confidence - "

"O, come!" cried Frank. "Your confidence? It was rosy but
unconsenting. Your confidence, indeed? Now, look! This is what I must
say, Weir, for it concerns your safety and good character, and therefore
my honour as your friend. You say I wormed myself into your confidence.
Wormed is good. But what have I done? I have put two and two together,
just as the parish will be doing tomorrow, and the whole of Tweeddale in
two weeks, and the black brothers - well, I won't put a date on that; it
will be a dark and stormy morning! Your secret, in other words, is poor
Poll's. And I want to ask of you as a friend whether you like the