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Updated: May 1, 2025
For a few moments he believed that the affair of the flower, combined, perhaps, with the overhearing of Mrs. MacSpadden's mischievous sentence, rankled in the Laird's barbaric soul. But he became presently aware that Kilcraithie's eyes eventually rested upon a quiet-looking blonde near the hostess.
"A thocht it was hiss." "And I think it isn't," said the consul, opening the door. Yet when the man had passed out he was by no means certain that the flower was not Kilcraithie's. He was even conscious that if the young Laird had approached him with a reasonable explanation or appeal he would have yielded it up.
"Some gallantry of that d d Frenchman, who's trying to do some woman-stalking up here, and jealousy of Kilcraithie's, who's just got enough of his forbears' blood in him to think nothing of sticking three inches of his dirk in the wame of the man that crosses him. But I say," continued Jock, leaning easily back in his chair, "YOU ought to know something of all this.
He opened it impatiently to a tall gillie, who instantly strode into the room. There was such another suggestion of Kilcraithie in the man and his manner that the consul instantly divined that he was Kilcraithie's servant. "I'll be takin' some bit things that yon Whistlecrankie left," said the gillie gravely, with a stolid glance around the room. "Certainly," said the consul; "help yourself."
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