The Wizard's Son, Vol. 2 (of 3)Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Wizard's Son, Vol. 2 (of 3)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Great Britain -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Supernatural -- Fiction
"I have other work in hand," Walter said; at which young Tom stared and
coloured still more, and a slight movement showed itself along the
table, which Mr. Braithwaite, the knowledge-seeker, being newly arrived,
did not understand. Tom cried hastily, "I beg your pardon," and many
eyes were turned with sudden interest upon Lord Erradeen. But this was
what Walter had anticipated as little as the parliamentary inquirer. He
grew so red that Tom Campbell's healthy blush was thrown into the shade.
"I ought rather to say," he added hastily, "that my time here is too
short for amusement."
There was an uneasy little pause, and then everybody burst into talk.
Both the silence and the conversation were significant. Lord Erradeen
turned to Katie with an instinctive desire for sympathy, but Katie was
occupied, or pretended to be so, with her luncheon. It was not here that
sympathy on that point was to be found.
"I wonder," said Katie, somewhat coldly, "that you do not remain longer
when you are here. Auchnasheen is very nice, and you ought to know your
neighbours, don't you think, Lord Erradeen? If it is merely business, or
duty, that brings you----"
"I wish I knew which it was," he said in a low tone.
Katie turned and looked at him with those eyes of common-sense in which
there is always a certain cynicism.
"I did not think in this century," she said, "that it was possible for
any man not to know why he was doing a thing; but you perhaps like to
think that an old family has rules of its own, and ought to keep up the
past."
"I should think," said Mr. Braithwaite, not discouraged by the lower
tone of this conversation, "that the past must have a very strong hold
upon any one who can suppose himself a Highland chieftain."
"A Highland chief!" cried Katie, opening her brown eyes wide: and then
she laughed, which was a thing strangely offensive to Walter, though he
could scarcely have told why.
"I fear," he said coldly, "that though I am to some extent a Highland
laird, I have no pretension to be a chief. There is no clan Methven that
I ever heard of: though indeed I am myself almost a stranger and of no
authority."
"Mrs. Forrester will tell you, Mr. Braithwaite," said Katie. "She is a
sort of queen of the loch. She is one of the old Macnabs who once were
sovereign here. These people," she said, waving her hand towards the
various scions of the great clan Campbell, "are mushrooms in comparison:
which is a comfort to our feelings, seeing that we sink into
insignificance as creatures of to-day before them. The very original
people for highly consolatory to the upstarts, for we are just much the
same as the middling-old people to them. They are worlds above us all."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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