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And you think I would marry you?’ ‘Why not? I am unworthy, eh? Because I am a servant. It has been a real honeymoon trip, Annabel, for I feel that it has given me a wife. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart.
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