"Carnegie, did you ever hear the classical couplet—
"Scarting and biting
Mak Scots fouk's 'ooing;"
and although I admit the description applies in the first instance to milkmaids, yet there is a fair share of national character in the Carnegies."
"Do you really think that Kate is in … has, well, a, eh, tenderness to Carmichael? it would never have occurred to me."
"How would you look on Carmichael as a suitor?"
"Well, if Kate is to marry—and mind you I always prepared myself for that—I would of course prefer Hay, not because he is a lord, or rich, or any snobbery of that kind—you know me better than that, Sandie—but because he 's … you know … belongs to our own set.
"Don't you think there is something in that?" and the General tried to explain his honest mind, in which lived no unworthy or uncharitable thought. "I have not one word to say against Carmichael; he 's good-looking, and monstrous clever, and he has always made himself very agreeable, very, and the people swear by him in the Glen; but … you must understand what I mean, Davidson," and the General was in despair.
"You mean that though he 's a first-rate young fellow for a clergyman, he does not belong to your world—has a different set of friends, has different habits of living, has a different way of thinking and speaking—is, in fact, an outsider."
"That's it—just what I was 'ettling' after—lucky fellows we Scots with such words," and the General was immensely delighted to be delivered of his idea in an inoffensive form.
"It is my own belief, Carnegie—and you can laugh at me afterwards if I be wrong—that this will be the end of it, however. Yes, putting it plainly, that Kate is in love with Carmichael, as he is certainly with her; and you will have to make the best of the situation."