“Weel, there is the peradventure.”
“Mither, put your arm round me. To the end of your life, Christine will put hers round you. Naebody can part us twa. Naebody!”
“I thought Cluny was coming—and—that——”
“I would leave you. Leave you now! Leave you, and leave feyther without anyone to cook his meals, and leave wee Jamie, who looks to me as if I was his Mither. Na, na! You mustna judge Christine in that way. What for would I leave you? Because a lad loves me out of a’ sense and reason. Even if I was his wife, love and duty would count your claim first. God said a man should leave feyther and mither, and cleave to his wife; but He didna tell a woman to leave her feyther and mither, and cleave to her husband.”
“He would mean it, Christine.”
“Then He would hae said it. He leaves nae room to question.”
“There might be what is called ‘inferences.’”
“Na, na, Mither! It is thus and so, and do, and do not, wi’ God. There’s nae inferences in any o’ His commands. When folks break them, they ken well they are breaking them. But what will we be talking o’ this matter for? You yoursel’ are beyond the obligation.”
“I ne’er had it, I may say, for my feyther was drowned ere I was born, and my mither died ere I was five years old. It’s different wi’ you, dearie.”