“Tell Mither, Sir. Tell her, she’ll maybe find it easier than she thinks; and maybe I could help her;” and Christine went and stood by her mother’s chair, and drew her mother’s head close to her breast, and kissed her softly, as she whispered, “Ask the Domine what to do wi’ wrangs ye canna bear, and canna pay back?”
“That’s the sair part, Sir. Christine has touched the raw. If any man or woman in the village scorns or wrangs me, I can gie them as gude as they send—words or blows—and I wad do it! Yes, I would!”
“Have you given up your kirk membership, Margot?”
“No, Sir, I hae done naething yet, requiring me to do sae; but it’s hard saying what I might be driven to, if somebody doesna mak’ Jess Morrison quit meddling wi’ my family affairs—the lying hizzy!”
“Margot! Margot! My friend Margot! You astonish me, you trouble me!”
“Weel, Domine, I’m very sorry to trouble you. I wad rather trouble the hale village than you. What do you want me to do?”
“Just to try for one month, my plan of treating any injustice, or injury, I receive.”
“Weel then, what is your plan? I’m no promising to do what I’m vera sure is far oot o’ my way, but if you had been injured on every side o’ your heart, as I hae been, what would you do?”
“When I receive an injury, Margot, I think it calmly over, and I am sure to find some excuse for part of it—the rest I forgive.”