When Macdonald had gone I made up my mind that I wouldn't argue about education with him again. I'll bring out my pack of cards when he next visits me.
* * *
I have had a sharp attack of influenza, and have been in bed for a week. When my temperature fell I commenced to read a book on political philosophy, but I had to give it up. I asked Margaret to borrow a few novels from Macdonald's school library, and I found content. I read The Forest Lovers, King Solomon's Mines, and one of Guy Boothby's Dr. Nikola stories, and was entranced.
When you are ill you become primitive; the emotional part of you is uppermost, and you weep over mawkish drivel that you would laugh at when you are well. Any snivelling parson could have persuaded me to believe that I was a sinner, had he come to my bed-side three days ago.
Luckily no snivelling parson came, but the girls came every night.
"Aw hope ye dinna dee," said Annie.
"Ye wud need an awfu' lang coffin," said Janet as she measured me with her eye.
"You've got a cheerful sort of bed-side manner, Jan," I said.
"Wud ye hae an oak coffin?" she asked.
"Couldn't afford it, Jan. You see I'm saving up for my marriage."