The base of my trouble was Catriona's extraordinary innocence, at

which I was not so much surprised as filled with pity and

admiration. She seemed to have no thought of our position, no

sense of my struggles; welcomed any mark of my weakness with

responsive joy; and when I was drove again to my retrenchments, did

not always dissemble her chagrin. There were times when I have

thought to myself, "If she were over head in love, and set her cap

to catch me, she would scarce behave much otherwise;" and then I

would fall again into wonder at the simplicity of woman, from whom

I felt (in these moments) that I was not worthy to be descended.

There was one point in particular on which our warfare turned, and

of all things, this was the question of her clothes. My baggage

had soon followed me from Rotterdam, and hers from Helvoet. She

had now, as it were, two wardrobes; and it grew to be understood

between us (I could never tell how) that when she was friendly she

would wear my clothes, and when otherwise her own. It was meant

for a buffet, and (as it were) the renunciation of her gratitude;

and I felt it so in my bosom, but was generally more wise than to

appear to have observed the circumstance.

Once, indeed, I was betrayed into a childishness greater than her

own; it fell in this way. On my return from classes, thinking upon

her devoutly with a great deal of love and a good deal of annoyance

in the bargain, the annoyance began to fade away out of my mind;

and spying in a window one of those forced flowers, of which the

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