Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 7, 2025
"Major and Miss Kinnaird are his guests," she observed. Weston recognized the reproof in this, and stood silent a moment or two until she spoke again. "Are you afraid my nerve may not prove equal to Miss Kinnaird's?" she asked. Weston smiled and answered without reflection. "No," he said, "that certainly wasn't troubling me. When the pinch comes you could be relied on."
We had brought an abundance of fresh provisions for both yachts, and were glad to find that Uncle Tom did not wish to go to Inverness; and we accordingly shaped our course for Kinnaird's Head, not intending to touch at any place on the Scotch coast until we reached Aberdeen.
After the election had proceeded for a few days, it was found that upon the poll Sir Francis Burdett was left considerably behind Sir Samuel Romilly and Sir Murray Maxwell. Major Cartwright's and Mr. Douglas Kinnaird's names were, therefore, withdrawn from the contest, and the friends of both those gentlemen joined to support Sir Francis's election, which appeared to be in great danger.
He flung himself forward, and with the help of Kinnaird wriggled clear, but when they looked down there was empty blackness beneath the hole he had made. "It's a snow-bridge, I think, sir," he said. "The creek's running under it. Anyway, I didn't touch anything solid with my feet." Kinnaird's face grew graver. "If you're right," he observed, "it would be wiser to work around."
That counts for a little, though perhaps it shouldn't." Once more Mrs. Kinnaird's astonishment was very evident. "It shouldn't?" "That's just what I meant. If a man is clean of character, and has grit and snap in him, I don't know that one could reasonably look for anything further. I can't see how the fact that his grandfather was this or that is going to affect him.
She was rather pleased with it. "No," she said. "At least that was not what brought me out. The major has gone fishing; Mrs. Kinnaird has gone to sleep; and Arabella appears a little cross." Weston nodded. "It's excusable," he said. "How is Miss Kinnaird's knee?" "I don't think it's very bad. How is your foot? It doesn't seem to have affected your temper." Weston laughed.
I've thrown away common sense and prudence, all sense of what is fitting and all that is due to you. None of those things seem to count just now." He drew a little nearer. "I fell in love with you at Kinnaird's camp, and tried hard to crush that folly. Then I found the mine, and for a few mad weeks I almost ventured to believe that I might win you.
The breeze that came off the lake was colder than usual, and the rest of the party had retired indoors, but one window of the little wooden house stood open, and Miss Kinnaird's voice drifted softly out of it. She was evidently singing a selection from an opera. Grenfell, who lay with his back against one of the hearth-logs, appeared to be listening critically.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking