But a far greater affliction was in store for her. The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. She was caught by an uncle, whose opinion she valued, making faces at Roddy because he had exulted at this. There was a young lad ahead of her. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree. “I wonder would you mind seeing who it is.
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