“Jean Hay.”
“Jean Hay! What could Jean have to do with Thora’s affairs?”
“Well, then, her conscience made her interfere. She had heard some evil reports about Ian’s life and she thought it her duty, after yours and Thora’s kindness to her, to report these stories.”
“A miserable return for our kindness! This is what I notice––when people want to say cruel things, they always blame their conscience or their duty for making them do it.”
“Here is Jean’s letter. Thou, thyself, must read it.”
Rahal read it with constantly increasing anger and finally threw it on the table with passionate scorn. “Not one word of this stuff do I believe, Coll! Envy and jealousy sent that news, not gratitude and good will! No, indeed! But I will tell thee, Coll, one thing I have always found sure, it is this; that often, much evil comes to the good from taking people out of their poverty and misfortunes. They are paying a debt they owe from the past and if we assume that debt we have it to pay in some wise. That is the wisdom of the old, the wisdom learned by sad experience. I wish, then, that I had let the girl pay her own debt and carry her own burden. She is envious of Thora. Yet was Thora very good to her. Do I believe in her gratitude? Not I! Had she done this cruel thing out of a kind heart, she would have sent this letter to me and left the telling or the not telling to my love and best judgment. I will not believe anything against Ian Macrae! Nothing at all!”
“Much truth is in thy words, Rahal, and it is not on Jean Hay’s letter I will do anything. I will take only Ian’s ‘yes,’ or ‘no’ on any accusation.”
“You may do that safely, Coll, I know it.”