“It is a great pleasure to meet you, Sir. When you know Angus, you wish to know the man who made Angus well worth the love he wins.”
The Domine and Angus looked at the beautiful girl in utter amazement. She spoke perfect English, 94 in the neat, precise, pleasant manner and intonation of the Aberdeen educated class. But something in Christine’s manner compelled their silence. She willed it, and they obeyed her will.
“Sit down at the table with us, Christine,” said the Domine. “We want your advice;” and she had the good manners to sit down, without affectations or apologies.
“Colonel, will you tell your own tale? There’s none can do it like you.”
“It is thus, and so, Miss Ruleson. Two nights ago as I sat thinking of Angus in Culraine, I remembered my own boyhood days in the village. I thought of the boats, and the sailors, and the happy hours out at sea with the nets, or the lines. I remembered how the sailors’ wives petted me, and as I grew older teased me, and sang to me. And I said to my soul, ‘We have been ungratefully neglectful, Soul, and we will go at once, and see if any of the old playfellows are still alive.’ So here I am, and though I find by the Domine’s kirk list that only three of my day are now in Culraine, I want to do some good thing for the place. The question is, what. Angus thinks, as my memories are all of playtime, I might buy land for a football field, or links for a golf club. What do you say to this idea, Miss Ruleson?”
“I can say naething in its favor, Sir. Fishers are hard-worked men; they do not require to play hard, and call it amusement. I have heard my father say 95 that ball games quickly turn to gambling games. A game of any sort would leave all the women out. Their men are little at home, and it would be a heartache to them, if they took to spending that little in a ball field, or on the golf links.”
“Their wives might go with them, Christine,” said Angus.
“They would require to leave many home duties, if they did so. It would not be right—our women would not do it. Once I was at St. Andrews, and I wanted to go to the golf links with my father, but the good woman with whom we were visiting said: ‘James Ruleson, go to the links if so be you want to go, but you’ll no daur to tak’ this young lassie there. The language on the links is just awfu’. It isna fit for a decent lass to hear. No, Sir, golf links would be of no use to the women, and their value is very uncertain to men.’”
“Women’s presence would doubtless make men more careful in their language,” said Angus.
“Weel, Angus, it would be doing what my Mither ca’s ‘letting the price o’er-gang the profit.’”