Chapter 26
SUMMER was already past its prime, when Edgar reluctantly yielded his assent to their entreaties, and Catherine and I set out on our first ride to join her cousin. It was a close, sultry day: devoid of sunshine, but with a sky too dappled and hazy to threaten rain; and our place of meeting had been fixed at the guide-stone, by the cross-roads. On arriving there, however, a little herd-boy, despatched as a messenger, told us that:
“Maister Linton wer just o’ this side th’ Heights: and he’d be mitch obleeged to us to g**g on a bit further.”
“Then Master Linton has forgot the first injunction of his uncle,” I observed: “he bid us keep on the Grange land, and here we are off at once.”
“Well, we’ll turn our horses’ heads round, when we reach him,” answered my companion, “our exc
