“The schoolmaster’s wife?”
“I’m no a bairn, Domine; and she treats auld and young as if they were bairns. She would want 233 to teach me my alphabet, and my catechism o’er again.”
“There’s Nannie Brodie. She is a gentle little thing. She will do all Christine does for a few shillings a week.”
“What are you thinking of, Domine? I couldna afford a few shillings a week. I hae wonderfu’ expenses wi’ doctors and medicines, and my purse feels gey light in my hand.”
“I see, Margot, that my advice will come to little. Yet consider, Margot, if Christine falls sick, who will nurse her? And what will become o’ yourself?”
He went away with the words, and he found Christine sitting on the doorstep, watching the sea, as she used to watch it for her father’s boat. She looked tired, but she smiled brightly when he called her name.
“My dear lassie,” he said, “you ought to have some new thoughts, since you are not likely to get new scenes. Have you any nice books to read?”
“No, sir. Mither stopped Chambers Magazine and The Scotsman, and I ken a’ the books we hae, as if they were school books. Some o’ them are Neil’s old readers.”
“You dear, lonely lassie! This day I will send you some grand novels, and some books of travel. Try and lose yourself and your weariness in them.”
“O, Sir! If you would do this, I can bear everything! I can do everything!”