White Heather: A Novel (Volume 1 of 3)Black, William
General
White Heather: A Novel (Volume 1 of 3)
Black, William
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
They did not pursue the subject further at this moment, for a turn of
the road brought them suddenly within sight of a stranger, and the
appearance of a stranger in these parts was an event demanding silence
and a concentration of interest. Of course, to Ronald Strang Miss
Meenie Douglas was no stranger; but she was obviously a source of some
embarrassment: the instant he caught sight of her his face reddened, and
as she approached he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was not that
he was ashamed she should see him acting the part of a gillie; for that
he did not care in the least, it was as much a part of his work as
anything else; what vexed him was lest some sign of recognition should
show the stranger gentleman that Miss Douglas had formed the
acquaintance of the person who was at the moment carrying his waterproof
and his fishing-rods. And he hoped that Meenie would have the sense to
go by without taking any notice of him; and he kept his eyes on the
road, and walked forward in silence.
’Who is she?’ Mr. Hodson asked, in an undertone, and with some
astonishment, for he had no idea there was any such neatly-dressed and
pretty young lady in the neighbourhood.
Ronald did not answer, and they drew nearer. Indeed, Meenie was looking
quite beautiful this morning; for the cold air had brightened up the
colour in her cheeks; and the wide-apart blue-gray eyes were clear and
full of light; and her brown hair, if it was tightly braided and bound
behind, had in front been blown about a little by the wind, and here and
there a stray curl appeared on the fair white forehead. And then again
her winter clothing seemed to suit the slight and graceful figure; she
looked altogether warm, and furry, and nice, and comfortable; and there
was a sensible air about her dress—the blue serge skirt, the
tight-fitting sealskin coat (but this was a present from the laird of
Glengask and Orosay) and the little brown velvet hat with its wing of
ptarmigan plumage (this was a present not from Glengask, and probably
was not of the value of three halfpence, but she wore it, nevertheless,
when she was at her smartest). And if Ronald thought she was going to
pass him by without a word, he was mistaken. It was not her way. As
she met them, one swift glance of her Highland eyes was all she bestowed
on the stranger; then she said, pleasantly, as she passed—
’Good morning, Ronald.’
He was forced to look up.
’Good morning, Miss Douglas,’ said he, with studied respect; and they
went on.
’Miss Douglas?’ Mr. Hodson repeated, as soon as they were beyond
hearing. ’The doctor’s daughter, I presume?’
’Yes, sir.’
’But—but—I had no idea—why, she is a most uncommonly pretty young
lady—one of the most interesting faces I have seen for many a day. You
did not say there was such a charming young person in the place; why,
she adds a new interest altogether; I fancy my daughter won’t be long in
making her acquaintance when she comes here.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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