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Updated: June 3, 2025
He was in company with two men, Mr. Palmer, commonly called Deacon Palmer, and Arthur Kinnaird, of whom the one was not more certain to supply the material of paradox, than the other to draw it out. The deacon had been enlarging in lofty strain on the power and position of the clergy.
Kinnaird led the way; the girls came behind him climbing well; and Weston brought up the rear with an ample supply of provisions and a couple of big blankets strapped on his shoulders. He explained that the blankets would do to sit on, but, knowing a little about those mountains, he was somewhat dubious about their getting down again that afternoon.
Ye might even ca' him a wee man; it's the spirit that he has wi' it that I like. Thus, by degrees, touch upon touch, the portrait of Kinnaird was painted, and whatever misconceptions they might form of him were corrected one by one. There was little incident depicted, yet the figure of Kinnaird was never drawn passive, but always in action.
I want to say, as Major Kinnaird did, that we owe a good deal to you. I am only sorry that the trip is over." Then her tone changed a little, and Weston supposed that she was unwilling to make too great an admission. "There are so many little discomforts you have saved us." "Yes," he agreed, a trifle dryly, "I suppose there are. However, I shall probably have gone away when you come back again."
Miss Kinnaird was addicted to talking a good deal of nonsense, and she frequently wearied her listeners; but there was a certain shrewdness in her, and at times she got near the truth. Indeed, her companion afterward decided that she had done so in this case.
She would meet Gregory Kinnaird at the dance, and she had seen a good deal of him during the last few months. He was not formal like his father, and in most respects she liked the man; and there was no doubt whatever that he neglected no opportunity for enjoying her company. Indeed, he had of late drawn rather close to her, and she wondered a little uneasily how far this approachment was to go.
Kinnaird and Miss Stirling with Weston in the other. Though Weston was more or less accustomed to the work, he found the first few hours sufficiently arduous.
"The result?" queried Kinnaird, with a puzzled air. "A battalion of thick-headed niggers with some slight knowledge of civilized drill, and, perhaps, a few stockades blown up in the bush." Then, as he saw the half-veiled amusement in her eyes, a light seemed to break in on him.
Still, I don't want you to think that it's merely because Miss Kinnaird comes from the same country that I do that I didn't expect her to realize that to stand posed for an hour or so is apt to cramp one." Ida laughed. It evidently was clear to him that Miss Kinnaird regarded him as a packer and nothing else, and had decided that he had probably grown used to physical discomfort.
The minister would retreat out of the lady's range of vision; and so great did his curiosity grow that he instigated the maid to ask certain questions as she played at the game of the old love-story in her sprightly, pitying way. 'Now I'll tell ye a thing that I want to know, said the maid, pouring tea in a cup. 'What's his given name? Will ye tell me that? 'Is it Mr. Kinnaird ye mean?
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