Griggs? Why, this hair-brained young Kildare has been proposing to my
niece----" his horse stumbled, but recovered himself in a moment.
"You don't mean it," said I, rather startled.
"Oh no, no, no. I don't mean that at all. Ha! ha! ha! very good, very
good. No, no. Lord Steepleton wants us all to go on a tiger-hunt to
amuse John, and he proposes--ha! ha!--really too funny of me--that Miss
Westonhaugh should go with us."
"I suppose you have no objection, Mr. Ghyrkins? Ladies constantly go on
such expeditions, and they do not appear to be the least in the way."
"Objections? Of course I have objections. Do you suppose I want to drag
my niece to a premature grave? Think of the fever and the rough living
and all, and she only just out from England."
"She looks as if she could stand anything," I said, as just then an open
space in the trees gave us a glimpse of Miss Westonhaugh and Isaacs
ambling along and apparently in earnest conversation. She certainly
looked strong enough to go tiger-hunting that minute, as she sat erect
but half turned to the off side, listening to what Isaacs seemed to be
saying.
"I hope you will not go and tell her so," said Ghyrkins. "If she gets an
idea that the thing is possible, there will be no holding her. You don't
know her.
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