Whoever loved that loved not at first sight.
MARLOWE.
"Love is a perfect fever of the mind. I question if any man has been
more tormented with it than myself."
JAMES BOSWELL, in a letter to the Rev. W. J. Temple.
THE FIRST CHAPTER
I
Mr. Cairnduff's friend, George Hinde, met John at Euston Station. He was a stoutly-built, red-haired man, with an Ulster accent that had not been impaired in any degree by twenty years of association with Cocknies. "How're you!" he said, going up to John and seizing hold of his hand.
"Rightly, thank you! How did you know me?" John replied, laughing and astonished.
"That's a question and a half to ask!" Hinde exclaimed. "Wouldn't an Ulsterman know another Ulsterman the minute he clapped his eyes on him? Boys O, but it's grand to listen to a Belfast voice again. Here you," he said, turning quickly to a porter, "come here, I want you. Get this gentleman's luggage, and bring it to that hansom there. Do you hear me?"
"Yessir," the porter replied.
"What have you got with you?" he went on, turning to John.
"A trunk and a bag," John answered. "They have my name on them. John MacDermott!"