“Why should I give you a check for a hundred and eighty pounds?”
“I gave you ninety pounds when you went to your father’s funeral, I took ninety pounds to Culraine ten days ago, in answer to the letter Christine wrote.”
“You went to Culraine? You, yourself?”
“I went, and I had there one of the happiest days of my life. I got right into your mother’s heart, and taught her how to crochet. I saw and talked with your splendid sister. She is the most beautiful, intelligent girl, I ever met.”
“Such nonsense! She knows nothing but what I taught her!”
“She knows many things you know nothing about. I think she will become a famous woman.”
“When Mother dies, she will marry Cluny Macpherson, who is a Fife fisher, and settle down among her class.”
“I saw his picture, one of those new daguerreotypes. Such a splendid-looking fellow! He was a Fife fisher, he is now Second Officer on a Henderson boat, and wears their uniform. But it is Christine 268 I am telling you about. There is a new Blackwood on the table at your right hand. Turn to the eleventh page, and see what you find.”
He did so, and he found “The Fisherman’s Prayer.” With a scornful face he read it, and then asked, “Do you believe that Christine Ruleson wrote that poem? I have no doubt it is the Domine’s work.”
“Not it. I saw the Domine. He and that lovable lad he has adopted——”