“Oh, he’s all right,” said Kenneth bluffly. “When he has no shoes on he can hold by his toes. Come and sit aft.”
“No, thank you; I would rather not move. I did not know it would be so rough at sea, or I would have come by train.”
“Train! You couldn’t come to Dunroe by train.”
“Couldn’t I?”
“No.”
“Oh!—Are you Mr Kenneth Mackhai?”
“I’m Kenneth Mackhai,” said the lad rather stiffly. “My father asked me to come and meet you—and, er—we’re very glad to see you.”
“Thank you. It was very kind of you; but I am not used to the sea, and I should have preferred landing at the pier and coming on in a cab or a fly.”
“Pier! There’s no pier near us.”
“No pier? But never mind. You are very good. Would you mind setting me ashore now?”