Days so full and so happy went quickly away, and though there had been so much to do, never had the village been ready for the herring visit, as early, and so completely, as it was this summer. When Margot’s roses began to bloom, the nets were all leaded, and ready for the boats, and the boats themselves had all been overhauled and their cordage and sails put in perfect condition. There would be a few halcyon days of waiting and watching, but the men were gathering strength for the gigantic labor before them, as they lounged on the pier, and talked sleepily of their hopes and plans.
It was in this restful interval that James and Margot Ruleson received a letter from their son Neil, inviting them to the great Commencement of his college. He said he was chosen to make the valedictory speech for his class, that he had passed his examination with honor, and would receive his commission as one of Her Majesty’s attorneys at law. “If you would honor and please me by your presence, dear father and mother,” he wrote, “I shall be made very happy, and I will secure a room for you in the house where I am living, and we can have our meals together.”
It is needless to say this letter canceled all faults. Margot was delighted at the prospect of a railway journey, and a visit to Aberdeen. She was going to see for hersel’ what a university was like—to see the hundreds o’ lads studying for the law and the gospel there—to hae a change in the weary sameness 174 of her hard fisher life. For a few days she was going to be happy and play, hersel’, and see her lad made a gentleman, by the gracious permission o’ Her Majesty, Queen Victoria.
The invitation being gladly accepted, Margot had anxious consultations with Christine about her dress. She knew that she was the handsomest woman in Culraine, when she wore her best fishing costume; “but I canna wear the like o’ it,” she said in a lingering, rather longing tone.
“Na, na, Mither, ye be to dress yoursel’ like a’ ither ladies. Your gray silk is fine and fitting, but you must hae a new bonnet, and white gloves, and a pair o’ patent leather shoon—a low shoe, wi’ bows o’ black ribbon on the instep. There’s few women hae a neater foot than you hae, and we’ll gae the morn and get a’ things needfu’ for your appearance. Feyther hes his kirk suit, and he is requiring naething, if it be not a pair o’ gloves.”
“He never puts a glove on his hand, Christine.”
“Ay, weel, he can carry them in his hand. They are as respectable in his hands, as on them. It is just to show folk that he can afford to glove his hands, if he wants to do it. That is maistly what people wear fine claes of all kinds for. They would be happier i’ their ivery day loose and easy suits, I’m thinking,” said Christine.
“I wonder why Neil didna ask you, Christine. You helped him many a weary hour to the place he is now standing on. If he had not asked anyone 175 else, he ought to hae bidden you to his finishing and honoring. Why didn’t he do that proper thing? Hae ye ony quarrel wi’ him?”
“Not a word oot o’ place between us. I wrote him a four-page letter three days syne.”
“What’s the matter, then?”