“Mr. Vedder, they will do whatever they want to do; and they will go wherever they want to go; and they will walk in their own shoes, and work in their own shoes, and be well satisfied with them.”
“Thora, I am sorry I was born in the last century. If I had waited for about fifty years I would have been in proper time to marry thee.”
“Perhaps.”
“Yes; for I would not have let a woman so fair and good as thou art go out of my family. We should have been man and wife. That would certainly have happened.”
“If two had been willing, it might have been. Now our talk must end; the Archdeacon likes not a late comer;” and with this remark, and a beaming smile, she went away.
Then there was a silence, full of words longing to be spoken; but Rahal Ragnor was a prudent woman, and she sighed and sewed and left Vedder to open the conversation. He looked at her a little impatiently for a few moments, then he asked:
“To what port has thy son Boris sailed?”
“Boris intends to go to Leith, if wind and water let him do so.”
“Boris is not asking wind and water about his affairs. There is a question I know not how to answer. I am wanting thy help.”