“I suppose I can get a mouthful for myself.”
“Get a’ you want,” answered Margot; but Christine served him with his plate of porridge and basin of new milk, and as he ate it, she toasted a scone, and made him a cup of tea.
“Mother is cross this morning, Christine. It is annoying to me.”
“It needna. There’s a big take o’ fish in, and every man and woman, and every lad and lass, are in the herring sheds. Mither just run awa’ from them, to see what orders for kippers I had brought—and I hae brought nine hundred mair than usual. I must rin awa’ and help her now.”
“No, Christine! I want you most particularly, this morning.”
“I’ll be wi’ you by three in the afternoon.”
“Stay with me now. I’ll be ready for you in half an hour.”
“I can hae fifty fish ready for Mither in half an hour, and I be to go to her at once. I’ll be back, laddie, by three o’clock.”
“I’m just distracted with the delay,” but he 41 stopped speaking, for he saw that he was alone. So he took time thoroughly to enjoy his scone and tea, and then, not being quite insensible to Christine’s kindness, he washed the dishes and put them away.
He had just finished this little duty, when there was a knock at the outside door. He hesitated about opening it. He knew no villager would knock at his father’s door, so it must be a stranger, and as he was not looking as professional and proper as he always desired to appear, he was going softly away, when the door was opened, and a bare-footed lad came forward, and gave him a letter.