John Buchan

The Half-Hearted John Buchan

When the afternoon train from the south drew into Gledsmuir station, a girl who had beendevouring the landscape for the last hour with eager eyes, rose nervously to prepare forexit. To Alice Wishart the country was a novel one, and the prospect before her anunexplored realm of guesses. The daughter of a great merchant, she had lived most of herdays in the ugly environs of a city, save for such time as she had spent at the conventionalschools. She had never travelled; the world of men and things was merely a name to her, and a girlhood, lonely and brightened chiefly by the companionship of books, had not givenher self-confidence. She had casually met Lady Manorwater at some political meeting inher father's house, and the elder woman had taken a strong liking to the quiet, abstractedchild. Then came an invitation to Glenavelin, accepted gladly yet with much fear andsearching of heart. Now, as she looked out on the shining mountain land, she was full ofdelight that she was about to dwell in the heart of it. Something of pride, too, was present, that she was to be the guest of a great lady, and see something of a life which seemedinfinitely remote to her provincial thoughts. But when her journey drew near its end shewas foolishly nervous, and scanned the platform with anxious eye. The sight of her hostess reassured her. Lady Manorwater was a small middle-aged woman, with a thin classical face, large colourless eyes, and untidy fair hair. She was very plainlydressed, and as she darted forward to greet the girl with entire frankness and kindness, Alice forgot her fears and kissed her heartily. A languid young woman was introduced asMiss Afflint, and in a few minutes the three were in the Glenavelin carriage with the wideglen opening in fr