`` Alan Fraser ? '' I repeated , with a strange , horrible feeling of coldness and chill coming over me like a shadow on a bright day . Alan Fraser , the son of old Malcolm Fraser of Glenellyn ! The son of our enemy ! He had been living since childhood with his dead mother 's people , so much I knew . And this was he ! Something stung and smarted in my eyes . I think the sting and smart might have turned to tears if Father had not been looking down at me . `` Yes . Did n't you see him in his father 's pew ? But I forgot . You are too demure to be looking at the young men in preaching -- or out of it , Isobel . You are a model young woman . Odd that the men never like the model young women ! Curse old Malcolm Fraser ! What right has he to have a son like that when I have nothing but a puling girl ? Remember , Isobel , that if you ever meet that young man you are not to speak to or look at him , or even intimate that you are aware of his existence . He is your enemy and the enemy of your race . You will show him that you realize this . '' Of course that ended it all -- though just what there had been to end would have been hard to say .
Not long afterwards I met Alan XXXXX again , when I was out for a canter on my mare .
Curse Father Fraser Glenellyn Isobel day girl pew right sting