Antiquarians -- Fiction; Beggars -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Love stories; Scotland -- Fiction
"Had not Jenny betterbut no, I'll run myself," said the younger lady,
partaking in all her uncle's terrors"I'll run myself to Saunders
Mucklebackit, and make him get out his boat."
"Thank you, my dear, that's the wisest word that has been spoken
yetRun! run!To go by the sands!" seizing his hat and cane; "was there
ever such madness heard of!"
CHAPTER SEVENTH.
Pleased awhile to view
The watery waste, the prospect wild and new;
The now receding waters gave them space,
On either side, the growing shores to trace
And then returning, they contract the scene,
Till small and smaller grows the walk between.
Crabbe.
The information of Davie Dibble, which had spread such general alarm at
Monkbarns, proved to be strictly correct. Sir Arthur and his
daughter had set out, according to their first proposal, to return to
Knockwinnock by the turnpike road; but when they reached the head of the
loaning, as it was called, or great lane, which on one side made a sort
of avenue to the house of Monkbarns, they discerned, a little way
before them, Lovel, who seemed to linger on the way as if to give him
an opportunity to join them. Miss Wardour immediately proposed to her
father that they should take another direction; and, as the weather
was fine, walk home by the sands, which, stretching below a picturesque
ridge of rocks, afforded at almost all times a pleasanter passage
between Knockwinnock and Monkbarns than the high-road. Sir Arthur and
Miss Wardour
Sir Arthur acquiesced willingly. "It would be unpleasant," he said, "to
be joined by that young fellow, whom Mr. Oldbuck had taken the freedom
to introduce them to." And his old-fashioned politeness had none of the
ease of the present day which permits you, if you have a mind, to cut
the person you have associated with for a week, the instant you feel or
suppose yourself in a situation which makes it disagreeable to own him.
Sir Arthur only stipulated, that a little ragged boy, for the guerdon
of one penny sterling, should run to meet his coachman, and turn his
equipage back to Knockwinnock.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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