I met him hobbling from West Inch the first time after she came, with pink in his cheeks and a shine in his eye that took ten years from him.

He was cocking up his grey moustaches at either end and curling them into his eyes, and strutting out with his sound leg as proud as a piper.

What she had said to him the Lord knows, but it was like old wine in his veins.
"I've been up to see you, laddie," said he, "but I must home again now.
My visit has not been wasted, however, as I had an opportunity of seeing _la belle cousine_.

A most charming and engaging young lady, laddie." He had a formal stiff way of talking, and was fond of jerking in a bit of the French, for he had picked some up in the Peninsula.

He would have gone on talking of Cousin Edie, but I saw the corner of a newspaper thrusting out of his pocket, and I knew that he had come over, as was his way, to give me some news, for we heard little enough at West Inch.
"What is fresh, Major ?" I asked.