When Ruleson and his wife were alone, Margot noticed that her man’s face became very somber and thoughtful. He was taking his bed-time smoke by the fireside, and she waited beside him, with her knitting in her hands, though she frequently dropped it. She was sure he had something on his mind, and she waited patiently for its revealing. At length he shook the ashes from his pipe, and stood it in its proper corner of the hob, then going to the window, he looked out and said,
“It’s fair and calm, thank God! Margot, I saw 166 Neil today.” As he spoke, he sat down, and looked at her, almost sorrowfully.
“What did he say for himsel’?”
“I didna speak to him. I was in Finlay’s store, at the back o’ it, whar Finlay hes his office. A young man came into the store, and Finlay got up and went to speak to him. It was Rath, and when he went awa’, Finlay called me, and showed me a little group on the sidewalk. They were Rath and his sister, our Neil and Provost Blackie’s son.”
“Our Provost Blackie’s son?”
“Just sae. And Neil and him were as well met and friendly as if they had been brought up in the same cottage. The four o’ them stood talking a few minutes, and then Neil offered his arm to Miss Rath, and led the young lady to a carriage waiting for them. She smiled and said something, and Neil turned and bowed to Rath and young Blackie, and then stepped into the carriage and took his seat beside the lady, and they drove off together.”
“Gudeman, you arena leeing to me?”
“I am telling you the plain evendown truth, Margot.”
“Did he see you?”
“No. I keepit oot o’ his way.”