Then Mistress Kilgour entered into a minute description of all Sophy’s beautiful things, and Janet listened attentively, not only for her own gratification, but also for that of every woman in Pittendurie. Indeed she appeared so interested that her entertainer never suspected the anger she was restraining with difficulty until her curiosity had been satisfied. But when every point had been gone over, when the last thing about Sophy’s dress and appearance had been told and discussed, Janet suddenly inquired, “Have they come back to Largo yet?”
“Indeed nothing so common,” answered Griselda, proudly. “They have gone to foreign lands—to France, and Italy, and Germany,”—and then with a daring imagination she added, “and it’s like they won’t stop short of Asia and America.”
“Well, Jamie Logan, my Christina’s promised man is on the American line. I dare say he will be seeing her on his ship, and no doubt he will do all he can to pleasure her.”
“Jamie Logan! Sophy would not think of noticing him now. It would not be proper.”
“What for not? He is as good a man as Archie Braelands, and if all reports be true, a good deal better.”
“Archie indeed! I’m thinking ‘Master Braelands’ would be more as it should be.”
“I’ll never ‘master’ him. He is no ‘master’ of mine. What for does he have a Christian name, if he is not to be called by it?”
“Well, Janet, you need not show your temper. Goodness knows, it is as short as a cat’s hair. And Braelands is beyond your tongue, anyhow.”
“I’m not giving him a word. Sophy will pay every debt he is owing me and mine. The lassie has been badly guided all her life, and as she would not be ruled by the rudder, she must be ruled by the rocks.”
“Think shame of yourself! For speaking ill to a new-made bride! How would you like me to say such words to Christina?”