"Too old to trust to that."

"And you have been wounded in the war."

"The hotel may be full of wounded officers; if not I might get a little
unworthy purchase there. In any case I'll go. I should have to go
somewhere before many days. It may as well be to that place as to
another. I have heard that the air is glorious; and I'll keep an eye on
Robin, if I can't do anything else."

"That's enough for me," cried Catherine, warmly. "I have sufficient
faith in you to leave all the rest to your own discretion and good sense
and better heart. And I never shall forget it, Duncan, never, never! You
are the one person he wouldn't instantly suspect as an emissary, besides
being the only one I ever--ever trusted well enough to--to take at your
word as I have done."

I thought myself that the sentence might have pursued a bolder course
without untruth or necessary complications. Perhaps my conceit was on a
scale with my acknowledged infirmity where Catherine was concerned. But
I did think that there was more than trust in the eyes that now melted
into mine; there was liking at least, and gratitude enough to inspire
one to win infinitely more. I went so far as to take in mine the hand to
which I had dared to aspire in the temerity of my youth; nor shall I
pretend for a moment that the old aspirations had not already mounted to
their old seat in my brain. On the contrary, I was only wondering
whether the honesty of voicing my hopes would nowise counterbalance the
caddishness of the sort of stipulation they might imply.